Finding Home
by WheezylovesSeverus4ever
Summary: At five Harry is being abused by the Dursley's until one day, Petunia had enough and drops him off at a hospital where he goes into foster care, and there he is treated no better. He runs away and ends up at somebody's door step; I wonder whos?
1. The Park and a New Room

Warnings: This story will contain child abuse (All kinds, including sexual)/neglect

**Finding Home Chapter One; The Park and a New Room**

It was a beautiful summer day and little Harry was sitting on a bench at the park. It was really hot out but he wasn't allowed to go sit in the shade. Still, he wasn't going to complain; it was the first time he had ever been outside of the yard.

Harry watched as Dudley ran around with one of his friends, he didn't know who, playing tag and going on the playground. Harry had never been on a playground before and wondered if it was fun. Dudley looked to be having fun, and Harry was a bit envious. But he knew he wasn't allowed to get up, Aunt Petunia made that painfully clear.

"You will sit down on this bench, and you won't move." Aunt Petunia had hissed, and she dug her nails into his arm. Strangely, she didn't dig them enough to leave any mark. She had done that a lot lately, not hurting him, that is.

Usually a punishment consisted of getting hit, being starved, and getting locked in his cupboard. When he got hit, the smacks always left marks; bruises and welts and stuff. Lately though, nobody had touched him. No hits, smacks, kicks, and he even got food once a day. Usually he would get a sandwich once over three days if he was lucky, but now he got one everyday.

Harry didn't understand it at all. Not only did they lessen his punishments, he was even allowed to watch the telly a couple times with Dudley. That had NEVER happened before. Usually he would have to listen to it from his cupboard, and then he would usually miss most of it.

Then today, he got to go out of the yard for the first time. It was better than he would have imagined. There were trees and cars and people! Harry was too small to see over the fence in the backyard, so when he got taken to the park, it was very exciting. Of course, he didn't show it, he knew he wasn't allowed to be happy. He was a freak after all, and freaks weren't supposed to be happy. It was against the law or something.

That was another thing that had changed about a week ago. Before he was 'Freak' and 'Boy' but now he was Harry. He remembered the conversation Aunt Petunia had with him.

"Boy, get over here." She snapped at him. Harry had waddled over and stood in front of her. "From now on you're Harry. If anybody asks you, you're Harry James Potter." Harry had been confused, but he nodded anyway.

Now he knew that he was Harry Potter, he was five years old and if anybody asked, he loves the Dursley's, and they treat him very nice. Lately they had been, so if someone had asked he would only be telling the truth, right?

So here Harry was, sitting on a bench and actually enjoying it, even if it was very hot. It was so hot his oversized shirt was soaked with sweat, but he wasn't burning. For the first time in Harry's life, his Aunt slathered him with sun lotion, said she didn't want him getting burned. Nobody had been so nice to him before, usually his uncle enjoyed when Harry was burned. He sometimes would leave Harry out to burn until he blistered, and then would take the belt to the burns.

But Harry wasn't to think about that. Or talk about it. In fact, none of that ever happened. Harry had the perfect life. He got food, baths that didn't burn, clean water to drink, and even got to go outside. Perfect life, right? Right.

"Harry, dear." Aunt Petunia said, pulling Harry from his thoughts. "It's time to go sweetie." Harry jumped off the bench as Aunt Petunia grabbed Dudley's hand, she didn't take Harry's as she led them away.

"We have to stop at the store before we go home." Petunia said.

"What for?" Dudley whined. But Harry was thinking, "_Oh! The store! I've never been there! Wonder what it's like!_"

"We have to buy Harry some new clothes." Petunia sniffed, Harry almost fell over in shock. _New clothes?_

"But why?" Dudley whined. "I want new clothes! I want new clothes! I WANT NEW CLOTHES!"

"You know why Dudley." Petunia snapped, effectively shutting Dudley up. "You can have new clothes too." Dudley shut up completely and they continued to walk. Harry tried to keep up as best as he could, but it was hard because of his limp. He didn't know why it was there, but Aunt Petunia had said that he was born with it. He didn't understand why his limp had to hurt, but it always had.

Soon they were at the store and Harry was in awe. There were so many things! There was food, clothes, soaps, toys, electrical things, it had everything! When they got to the clothes department, Aunt Petunia started pulling clothes off the hangers, seemingly at random. When she was finished, she grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him into a changing room.

"Put these on." She demanded. Harry quickly stripped and started trying on the clothes. Most were way too big, as he was a lot smaller than normal five year olds. He looked like a large three year old actually. When Harry was finished, Aunt Petunia picked up the ones that fit and left the ones that didn't, then they went out and got smaller sizes of the ones that were too big.

After she gathered five shirts, five jeans, five pairs of underwear, five pairs of socks and a nice pair of shoes, they went to shop for Dudley. They had to go into the older boys section because he was so large. It took longer to shop for Dudley, as he was so picky. Harry on the other hand, didn't really care what his clothes looked like; he was just happy to be getting some.

After the clothes shopping was finished, Aunt Petunia shocked him again by leading them into the toy area. She browsed the isles, picking up a toy here and there and putting it into the cart. Dudley looked smug, and Harry was happy just seeing the toys and wishing, dreaming that, maybe someday, he could have some like them someday. Aunt Petunia picked up all kinds of things; Army men, toy cars, board games, a ton of stuffed animals, books and so much more. Finally they were done shopping, Petunia paid, and they all took as many bags as each of them could carry, and started walking back to number four. Harry of course, had the most bags to carry. He didn't mind though, he got new clothes!

When they got back Petunia set Dudley down for a nap, then turned to Harry. "I want you to go take a shower." She said. "Take as long as you want and you may use the good soap." Harry's eyes went wide and Petunia started to unpack all the things they bought.

"Go on." She said looking up. "I'll put some clothes in there for you to put on." Harry stood in shock for a moment more than turned and ran up to the bathroom. "You can use warm water too!" She called after him.

Harry was so happy; he'd never had a warm shower before. He'd have boiling hot baths and ice cold showers, but never warm! He quickly turned on the warm water and took his clothes off. Gasping, he stepped under the water and goose pimples popped up all over his skin. Harry stood under it for a long time, just feeling the warmth spread all over his body.

After about twenty minutes, he picked up the bottle of shampoo. He'd never used shampoo before, but he'd always loved the smell. He opened the cap and squirted a small amount on his hand, and then he lathered it into his hair. Harry made sure to scrub his hair really good, he didn't know when he'd get to shower again and wanted to be real clean.

When he was sure his hair was the cleanest he was going to get it, Harry closed his eyes and stepped back under the water to rinse it out. Then Harry took the bar of soap and started scrubbing every inch of his body clean.

Soon he was finished with his shower and the water was getting cold, so he turned the water off and stepped out. On the counter was a clean towel and some of the new clothes that he got. Harry smiled to himself and started drying himself off, then put on his clothes.

When he was finished getting dressed he hung the towel up and went downstairs to see if he had any cores to do or something. When Harry got downstairs, Aunt Petunia was doing laundry. He stood in front of her expectantly.

"Why don't you go watch the telly. Dear." She added sweetly. Harry stood and stared, in shock yet again, but then shook his head and went and turned the telly on. The news was on and Harry found it fascinating, so he plopped down on the floor to watch.

"Oh for heaven's sake!" she sighed, "Get on the couch. And what are you watching? You can't watch news." She picked up the remote and turned some cartoon on, then she turned and went upstairs. Harry paid no mind to her, or Dudley when he came down, he was too interested in the telly. Before he knew it hours went by and Uncle Vernon came home.

Harry jumped off the couch as the front door opened. Uncle Vernon took one look at Harry and growled.

"Get to your room, boy!" he snapped. Harry sprang into action and ran to the cupboard. He flung the door open but then stopped; his cupboard was filled with cleaning supplies.

"Oh, Harry dear, I've just finished cleaning your room." Petunia said kindly as she came down the stairs.

"Bu-but cleanin' supp'ies." Harry stuttered, looking back at the cupboard confused.

"Honey, why are you looking at the cupboard?" Petunia asked. "Your room is upstairs." Harry looked even more confused. "Come along dear." She said holding out her hand.

Harry crept forward and took the hand, then followed her upstairs. She led him to Dudley's second bedroom, which confused him even more. She opened the door and pushed him in. The room had changed completely. The bed was made and all of Dudley's toys were gone. In place were his new clothes and the toys Aunt Petunia had bought at the store.

"This is your room." She said softly. "You need to stop forgetting, hun. You've never slept in a cupboard, you've always slept here with all your toys and clothes. Right?" Harry nodded slowly.

"Toys Hawwy's? Hawwy pway?" Harry asked.

"That's right. Why don't you go in and play with your toys now." Harry nodded stupidly and Aunt Petunia shut the door. Harry was too shocked to play, so he stood in the middle of the room and looked. Hours went by and he still didn't touch any, it was just too good to be true. He was waiting for Uncle Vernon to fly through the door with his belt at any minute, but when the door opened, it wasn't Uncle Vernon.

"Supper is ready, Sweet heart." Aunt Petunia said, "Come down please." Harry nodded and jumped off the bed. He couldn't believe he was getting supper too! She led him down to the kitchen and set him down in the chair next to her and Dudley, and then filled his plate with roast beef and mashed potatoes.

"Eat up." She said. Harry picked up his fork slowly; he could see Uncle Vernon out of the corner of his eye and was scared. Vernon was so purple, Harry thought he was about to explode.

"Vernon!" Petunia growled. "Let him eat his supper." Vernon grumbled but calmed himself, and Harry ate his supper. He'd never had roast beef before, but he decided that it was his new favorite. He ate it as slow as he could, but not slow enough to where he was the last one done.

When the supper was finished, he stood to take care of the dishes, but Aunt Petunia stopped him.

"You don't do the dishes, I don't know how many times I've got to tell you, sweetie. You're getting confused again." Aunt Petunia said. Harry's brows furrowed and he thought for a minute.

"Why don't you go upstairs and get your sleep clothes on, then go to bed. It's been a long day." Petunia said. Harry nodded and went to his new room. He pulled open the drawer and took some night clothes out. He put them on and crawled into his bed, smiling the whole time. Harry closed his eyes, not knowing how things could change.


	2. Child Services and Punishments

**Finding Home Chapter Two: Child Services and Punishments**

When Harry woke up the next morning he felt more rested than he ever had before. Smiling, he stretched his arms and legs and felt the sheets. Something didn't feel right he decided, and opened his eyes. It took him a minute to remember what happened the day before, and frowned when he did.

Harry wanted to believe that things had changed, that the Dursley's had started loving him. Before he tried every day to make them love him, he did his chores as quickly as he could, didn't ask for more food or water, and he took his punishments silently. But then things suddenly change? It didn't seem right, even to a five year old Harry. But oh how he wanted to believe…

Now that he was alone he wondered how his injuries were doing. Before he never really dared to look at them, even in the shower. They made him feel gross, and made the beatings seem so much more real. Harry stood and pulled his shirt off and looked down; all the open wounds were healed, and all that was left were the many scars that littered his pale skin. He craned his neck to see all of his skin, and even the bruises were gone. Harry couldn't remember a time ever when he didn't have at least a couple of them.

Harry put his shirt back down and got off the bed, he figured he should go make breakfast before Aunt Petunia changed her mind about loving him. He walked to the door and silently pulled it open and padded down the stairs. When he got to the bottom he stopped, Aunt Petunia was already making breakfast, and wondered if he had ruined his chance.

"Oh Harry dear," She said seeing him, "Why don't you go and watch the telly with Dudley?" Harry didn't understand, cooking was his job.

"Hawwy cook?" He asked quietly.

"No, Harry watches the telly with Dudders like a good little boy." She frowned. "Don't know where you got such a mad idea." Harry took one more look at the pan and then turned to walk in the living room.

Dudley was sitting on the couch, the remote in one hand and a bag of chips in the other. Harry couldn't understand why Dudley would want to eat chips so early in the morning, and before breakfast! He shook his head and plopped down on the floor.

"Potter." Dudley growled, kicking Harry in the head. Harry yelped and scooted away fearfully.

"What's going on?" Petunia asked rushing around the corner, took one look at Harry and rounded on Dudley. "What happened?"

"The Freak tried to do his freaky powers!" Dudley lied, crocodile tears forming in his eyes.

"Is that what happened, Harry?" Petunia asked, Harry shook his head.

"What happened then?" She asked gently.

"Hawwy come in. Hawwy sit floor. Watch tewwy." Harry explained, "Den Dudwy huwt Hawwy! Wif foot on head!"

"You kicked him in the head?" Petunia demanded of Dudley. Dudley was shocked at the way his mother was talking to him, clearly, Harry was too; he was sure that Petunia had never punished Dudley before.

"Mum, the Freak deserved it!" Dudley whined.

"Go stand in the corner." Petunia growled. "Five minutes, go!" Dudley whined and moaned, stomped, then went to the corner, tears rolling down his fat cheeks.

"Breakfast is ready Harry." She said once Dudley was in the corner. "You can have breakfast when your punishment is over, Dudley." Dudley wailed, but Petunia only took Harry's hand and led him into the kitchen.

Aunt Petunia set Harry into a chair and put a plate in front of him. It had eggs, bacon, toast and sausage on it, and Harry's stomach growled.

"Well, dig in." Petunia encouraged. Harry smiled as he picked up the much too large fork and stabbed some egg. He popped it into his mouth and almost moaned. To a normal person it was just an egg, but to Harry it was one of the most delicious things he had ever eaten. Everything was.

After five minutes Petunia left to go get Dudley, and Harry could hear them whispering, but couldn't tell what was being said. He didn't care much, he was happy with his breakfast. When Dudley came in, he was grinning from ear to ear and took his place.

Harry looked at Dudley's plate for the first time; it had so much food on it! It had three eggs, 10 pieces of bacon, 4 pieces of toast, and about 6 sausages. Harry had one egg, two bacons, two sausages, and one piece of toast, and that was ok with him. He didn't think he could ever eat so much food.

Harry watched in fascinated horror as Dudley started eating. He'd seen Dudley eat of course, but never at the table. Harry knew that manners were to be had at the table; you weren't supposed to put your elbows on it, or eat with your mouth open. Dudley had both of his elbows on the table, and he ate loudly, food falling from his open mouth.

Aunt Petunia didn't even seem to mind, if Harry had eaten like that, he didn't even want to think about what would happen. She'd probably just lock him up and wait until Uncle Vernon came home. Harry put down his fork and shuddered.

"Finished Harry?" Petunia asked. Harry nodded.

"Good, why don't you go play in your room?" Harry nodded and again and slid off the chair, then started climbing the stairs. He walked down the hall until he came to the door of his new room. Harry reached up and turned the knob, then pushed the door open. He closed it behind him and flopped down on his bed.

Harry found that he didn't know what to do. His aunt had told him to play, but he'd never played before, not that he could remember anyway. He'd never even really seen Dudley playing either, not up until this last week. Harry reached over and picked up his stuffed bear. It was white and really soft, it was wearing a red bow around his neck.

Harry looked at it thoughtfully, trying to figure out what to do with it. Stuffed toys were meant to be played with, right? He tried to remember back to when he had seen Dudley playing, but it was no use. He'd never seen Dudley play with a toy, only with his friends. Playing tag and such.

Harry stared at it, then set it on the bed and stared at it some more, willing it to move or…well do anything really. Suddenly the bear floated in the air, not really doing anything but floating. Terror filled Harry and he reached up and ripped it out of the air and threw it against the wall. That was freak stuff, and freak stuff was bad.

Harry sat on the bed again and stared at the door. He was sure someone would come through the door at any moment and punish him. Harry felt tears prickle in his eyes, he done it, he'd messed it up. Aunt Petunia wouldn't love him anymore and he would have to move back into the cupboard.

Harry flopped over and started sobbing into his pillow; he didn't want to move into the cupboard again. It was hot and stuffy, and there was no light. His room had lots of space, and there was a window. Harry was sobbing so hard he didn't hear when the door opened, or feel when the bed dipped.

"Harry?" Aunt Petunia asked. Harry sucked in a breath and rubbed his face on the pillow, wiping the tears off. "What's wrong, Harry?" Harry sat up and tried to stop the sobs that wanted to escape. He would be a big boy, he wouldn't cry and he would move into the cupboard without complaints; maybe then they would love him again if they could see what a good boy he was.

"Harry, you can tell me." Petunia said.

"Hawwy Fweak!" Harry said, tears falling from his big, green eyes.

"No you're not Harry, why would you think that?" Petunia asked.

"Said Hawwy Pway. Hawwy no know how pway!" Harry cried, "Toy fwoat! Hawwy do Fweak 'gain!" Harry was sobbing again, it hurt worse that he thought it would. "Hawwy no mean to!" Harry covered his face with his hands, completely missing the look of sadness crossing Petunia's face.

"It's ok Harry, just don't do it again." Petunia said softly.

"Hawwy bad! Hawwy go back to cupboawd?" Harry asked, tears calming.

"No Harry, you won't go in the cupboard." Petunia said. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you've never been in the cupboard, and you never will." Harry nodded uncertainly.

"Now let's go get cleaned up, somebodies here to see you." Petunia said, taking Harry's hand and leading him to the bathroom. She pushed him gently to sit on the toilette, while she wetted a wash cloth with cool water.

"There is a woman here to see you." Petunia said, running the wash cloth over his face, cleaning it of the tears. "You can't tell her about the freaky things you can do." Harry nodded in understanding. "Good boy."

Those two words were enough to send Harry on the verge of tears again; he'd always wanted to hear them. His whole life he worked, he bled, and he starved, just to hear any words of praise; of affection. He held the tears back as he was led down the stairs.

In the kitchen, there was a woman sitting at the table talking to Dudley. She had shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes and nice clothes; she looked to be tall, and was rather thin. She turned when they entered, and Harry scooted closer to Aunt Petunia.

"Hello there, who might you be?" The woman asked kindly. Harry looked at the floor and pressed his lips together.

"He doesn't talk much." Petunia said softly, "he never has." She took Harry's hand gently and led him to a chair. Harry climbed on it and sat down, but didn't look at the woman, or anybody; he stared at the table.

"This is Harry." Petunia said. "Say hello, Harry." Harry looked at Aunt Petunia worried, but turned to the woman when Petunia nodded.

"I Hawwy." Harry said, holding his hand out to the woman. The woman smiled and shook his hand.

"I am Mrs. Goldstien." She said. "How are you?"

"Hawwy good." Harry mumbled, looking down again.

"Are you sure? You look a little sad." She replied. Harry shrugged, he didn't like the woman. She was strange and kept wanting to talk to him.

"He hasn't said much, he's been really shy since his parents died." Petunia said.

"Oh, I'm sorry. When did they die?" Mrs. Goldstien asked.

"When he was one and a half." Petunia said. "He used to be a happy baby, always laughing. But after they died he got quiet, he didn't laugh or smile much. I've just gotten him to smile recently."

"How did they die?"

"A car crash." Petunia said simply. "Harry was the only survivor."

"Oh the poor dear." Mrs. Goldstien said in sympathy. "Well Harry, would you like to show me your room?" Harry looked at Aunt Petunia again, she nodded, so Harry nodded at the woman.

"Show me then." She said holding her hand out to Harry. Harry took it carefully and hopped off the chair. He hesitated outside of the cupboard under the stairs, but then led the woman to his new room. She opened the door once they came to it, and Harry led her in.

"It's a nice room you've got." She said kindly, sitting on the bed. She patted the spot next to her and Harry went over to sit. Once he was sitting comfortably, the woman turned to him.

"Is it ok if I ask you some questions?" She asked. Harry looked worried but nodded. "Are you happy here?" Harry looked puzzled, what a strange question to ask. Harry nodded.

"How often do you eat?" Harry thought. He used to not eat much, but now he ate three times a day.

"Thwee." Harry whispered.

"Do you ever get into trouble?" She questioned. Harry nodded hesitantly.

"What do your punishments consist of?" She wondered. Harry's blood froze, that was a no-no question!

"Hawwy stand by wall." Harry said, thinking of Dudley's punishment earlier that day. "Fow Five Minutes."

"They don't hit you at all?" Harry shook his head. "Can you take off your shirt?" Harry's mind raced; if he took off his shirt she would see all his scars.

"Harry?" She asked gently. Harry nodded, putting on his bravest face he could, and pulled off his shirt. He looked down when she gasped, he gasped too, but not at the scars. They were there of course, well, some of them. The newer ones were gone, and the older ones were still there, littering his pale skin.

"Where did these come from?" Mrs. Goldstein asked.

"Caw cwash." Harry said firmly. She nodded.

"I've noticed that you walk with a limp." She stated, "What caused it? Do you remember?"

"Caw Cwash." Harry stated again. He reached up and pulled his hair away from his forehead and pointed to the lightning bolt scar. "Caw Cwash." She nodded in understanding.

"How do you get along with your cousin?" She questioned.

"Fine." Harry said.

"What do you guys do together?"

"Hawwy Pway wif Dudwy. Watch tewwy." Harry mumbled.

"Alright, I think that's all." Mrs. Goldstein said smiling. "Why don't you sit up here and play while I go talk to your aunt?" Harry nodded and watched as the woman left, closing the door behind her. Harry turned to put his shirt back on but stopped, all the scars were back, old and new. He shook his head, must have been doing Freak stuff again. He yawned and he put his shirt up, then curled up on the bed. He wasn't going to sleep, but rest his eyes.

Then next thing he knew he was being shaken awake. "Harry, wake up Honey, it's time for supper." Harry rubbed his eyes and jumped off the bed. Petunia took his hand and led him down the stairs and into the dining room. The woman was gone, to Harry's happiness, but Uncle Vernon took her place.

Aunt Petunia served dinner, but Harry barely noticed. He had a feeling in his gut, a feeling that something was going to happen; he wasn't going to like whatever it was.

"Dad, there was a woman here today!" Dudley exclaimed, "She kept asking us all questions about the Freak!" Harry looked at their faces. Vernon looked at Harry with an evil gleam in his eye, and Petunia looked panicked, Dudley seemed to have forgotten he said anything and was eating quickly.

"The child services lady?" Vernon asked. Petunia hesitated.

"…Yes." She said defeated. Uncle Vernon's eyes landed on Harry again, Harry shivered under the glare.

"What was her decision?" Vernon asked.

"She said that we're treating him right and she won't take him from such a loving family." Petunia said sadly. Vernon stood suddenly but Petunia pushed him back down.

"At least let him finish eating." She growled. Vernon looked furious but turned to his food. Harry finally looked down at his food, it was beef stew. He spent most of the meal picking at it, until everyone was finished. When Petunia got up to take care of the dishes, Vernon stood and marched over to Harry.

"Little Freak." He growled, grabbing Harry by the ear. "I've been waiting to thrash you for a week." Harry started shivering, he hated the thrashings! Vernon suddenly slapped him across the face hard enough to knock him to the floor. Harry didn't notice, in his pain, that Petunia took Dudley and left the room with tears in her eyes.

"Eating our food, wearing good boy clothes, playing with toys! How dare you!" Vernon raged coming at Harry again. Harry felt Uncle Vernon's foot connect with his face with a sickening crunch, and blood spurted from his nose. He let out a small whimper and curled up in a ball.

"Oh no, you don't." Vernon hissed. "You think you can eat our food and get away with it?" Harry tried to curl tighter but Uncle Vernon pried his arms apart, the started dragging him to the stove. Harry's heart dropped, he could take the belt, being locked in the cupboard, but he couldn't handle being burned on the stove. It hurt so much.

Vernon reached over and turned the flame on and started to put Harry's arm over it, but the flame suddenly went out. Vernon looked furious, and lit the flame again, only to have it go out again. He turned to Harry.

"LEAVE IT ON, FREAK!" He bellowed, smacking Harry across the face. He started hitting and kicking Harry over and over again. After a while he stopped and went to the sink. Vernon bent down and pulled out some cleaning chemicals, a cup and started mixing them. Harry was too much in pain to care.

A couple seconds later Vernon came over, yanked Harry up by his hair, and forced the chemicals into Harry's mouth. Harry tried to spit it back out, but Uncle Vernon put his hand over his mouth and nose. Pain suddenly erupted through Harry's mouth, and he couldn't breathe; Harry had no choice but to swallow it. The chemicals hurt so much Harry wanted to scream as hard as he could, he actually wished for the stove. At least his hands couldn't feel much anymore, so it wouldn't hurt as much.

He tried to swallow, he really did, but they just wouldn't go down. His throat was trying to reject them as he tried to force it. His lungs were burning and, to his horror, his body started coughing. He tried to suppress it, but it was no use. Uncle Vernon's hand over his mouth was so tight he couldn't cough through his mouth, the air escaped through his nose; along with some of the chemicals.

Harry wailed from behind the hand and clawed at Uncle Vernon's hand. The pain in his mouth was nothing compared to the pain the chemicals brought from going out his nose. He could feel blood dripping down his throat and down his face, and he started gagging. But there was nowhere for the blood or the chemical to go except down his throat and down his face through his nose.

Black dots danced across his vision and he started getting dizzy.

"Worthless Freak." Uncle Vernon growled, taking his hand away. The chemicals all spilled from Harry's mouth, along with a lot of blood. Harry was sure he'd never seen so much blood before and it made him even dizzier.

Uncle Vernon grabbed him by the ear and dragged him to the cupboard, ripped the door open, and threw Harry in on top of the cleaning supplies. The door shut with a bang and Harry was alone, and that hurt more than the chemicals or any beating.

** Wow, that was really hard to write, and I almost had to stop. What do you guys think of the story so far? Anything I can improve on? Any suggestions?**


	3. A Fire in the Backyard

**Finding Home Chapter Three: The Fire in the Backyard **

Harry blinked back tears as he faced the inside of the cupboard. He wouldn't cry, he wouldn't! He knew it was coming, well…Sort of. He had suspicions ever since they let him out a week ago, but he just couldn't understand what he'd done wrong. He knew he had done Freak stuff, but Aunt Petunia said it was ok and not to do it again. But he hadn't done it again, had he?

Then Harry froze. He had done it again. He'd done it right in the middle of a punishment of all things! He made the flames go out. The tears in his eyes were burning painfully, but not as painfully as his mouth, throat and nose. His mouth still tasted like the chemical and blood. Harry's mouth seemed to be watering profusely, but it hurt too much to swallow and he started to drool.

Disgusted with himself he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it off his chin, then got an idea. He opened his mouth and gently ran the shirt around inside, in attempt to get the chemicals off. He wasn't sure if he'd got it off or not, his mouth was slimy with saliva, blood, and probably still chemical. But when he was sure he'd gotten as much out as he could, he put his shirt back down and squinted to tried to let his eyes adjust to the darkness of his cupboard.

His cupboard didn't have very much light, Uncle Vernon had forgotten to leave his vent open. Deep inside Harry knew that Uncle Vernon didn't _forget _exactly, he always seemed to like to torture Harry; be it hitting him, burning him, belting him, starving him, or even just locking him in his stuffy cupboard with no light.

Finally his eyes adjusted as much as they would, with only a tiny amount of light through the crack at the bottom. There wasn't even much light coming from the crack; the carpet seemed to block most of it. There was a mob, a broom, some bleach, and his foot was in a bucket. Harry picked up his foot and walked around the cleaning supplies, and sat down on his old moldy mattress.

What was he supposed to do now? Harry was sure that with the pain he was feeling, he wouldn't be able to sleep, and there wasn't anything else to do. So he sat there, for hours and hours. Or so it felt like anyway.

Finally his door opened and Aunt Petunia stuck her head in and Harry felt his heart flutter, had she changed her mind? Did she love him again? Harry didn't move though, he didn't want to go through the disappointment again if she really didn't love him.

"Come here Harry." She whispered almost so quietly Harry almost missed it. Harry hesitantly got off his bed and walked forward.

"Stay quiet." She whispered, "Your uncle is asleep and we don't want to wake him." Harry's eyes widened and he nodded his head.

"You look awful." Petunia said as she led him into the kitchen. Harry knew he did, he could feel blood crusted, some still wet, all over his face. He looked down at his shirt, confirming that the gray shirt was now stained red. So much so, that you couldn't really tell by looking at the front that it wasn't supposed to be red. His nose and mouth was still bleeding, but not quite what it was before. It was more trickling, rather than gushing.

Petunia picked the child up under the arm pits and set him gently down on the counter by the sink. She looked at Harry sadly as she pulled a wash cloth out from a drawer and wet it.

"I'm so sorry, Harry." She whispered while she started cleaning the blood from his face. Harry looked into her face and almost believed her. _Almost. _He wasn't going to be fooled again. Thinking that anyone cared about him was just stupid. Nobody could care about a Freak after all, and that's all he was. Then when he would find out that nobody really did care, and it hurt. And Harry figured he hurt enough already, so thinking nobody cared was better than the disappointment.

Finally she put the bloody rag down and inspected the damage. There were still a couple of drops of blood leaking from his nose and mouth and there were open sores all over his face. Mostly by the outside of his lips and nose, though there were some on his chin and cheeks.

"Uh…Can't you…you know…use your Freakish powers…to uh…heal that?" Petunia asked flustered. Harry was shocked, had Aunt Petunia told him it was ok to use his Freakishness? It didn't matter Harry decided, he didn't know what his Freakish powers were, or how to do them. He shook his head.

"I know you can, Lily could." She hissed. Harry wasn't sure who Lily was, but had a feeling she was a Freak like him. Harry shrugged. Petunia sighed and rubbed her temples.

"Open your mouth." She said. Harry did, or tried. It was hard, with his mouth hurting so much, it was hard to open it more than a couple centimeters. She peered inside for a couple seconds, then turned to the sink and filled a cup of water. "Rinse your mouth out, it might help." Harry nodded and brought the cup to his mouth and let some of the water flow in. It was really cold and soothing on his raw tongue and skin, he really just wanted to drink it to sooth his throat. But Aunt Petunia had said to rinse his mouth, not drink it.

Harry suddenly had an idea. As he was swishing the water around in his mouth, he let some go down his throat, then spit the rest out. The cold water on his throat was really nice, just as soothing as his mouth. He took another mouthful and did the same thing, then repeated it until the water was all gone.

"Is that better?" Petunia asked. Harry nodded carefully. "Well then, why don't you try to get some sleep. And if you think about it, try to heal those. With your Freakishness." Harry stared at her wide eyed as she picked him up and set him back on the floor.

"Go to your cupboard." Petunia said, her voice cracking. Harry looked at the flood but obeyed. He shut the door behind him and heard Aunt Petunia lock it. He'd expected that, but what he hadn't expected, was for his aunt to open his vent.

Now that Harry thought about it, he was really tired. He turned and flopped down on his old mattress, then closed his eyes and fell immediately into a restless sleep.

The next morning Harry woke to someone banging on his cupboard. "Wake up Freak!" His uncle yelled. "Get out here and make breakfast, now!" Harry crawled painfully off his mattress and pushed the door open. Uncle Vernon was standing on the other side, purple faced and ready to explode. Harry shrank back and started to shake.

"I said NOW Freak!" Uncle Vernon yelled, flinging his arm out and hitting Harry across the face hard enough to send him falling over into his cupboard. Vernon reached in and pulled Harry out by the ear and flung him down the hall.

Harry caught himself on the wall and slowly went into the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was already sitting at the table with Dudley. She looked stiff as a board and wouldn't make eye contact with Harry. He lowered his head sadly and went to the fridge; he pulled out the eggs, milk bacon, and butter, then went to the cupboard and pulled out bread.

Harry could feel Uncle Vernon's eyes on him as he went on and prepared breakfast, it made him very uncomfortable. Harry was very lucky that morning, he didn't burn any of the food so he didn't get thrashed; he didn't get any of the food either through. Once he had set the plates, and put all the food onto the table Vernon grunted and told Harry to go back to his cupboard.

Once Harry was safely inside, he went as sad down carefully on his mattress. He wished that he would have been able to have some of the food, maybe just a piece of toast or bacon, but he wasn't going to complain. He placed his hand on his empty, growling stomach and tried not to think about it.

Harry found out early in life though, that when you tried not to think about something, that's when you remember or notice it most. But it was still worth a try, right? So he sat there and tried to think about other things. He mostly wondered what they would have him do once they finished breakfast. Would they send him to work doing chores? If so, Harry hoped they gave him outdoor chores. At least that way he could have fresh air and see the sun.

He wondered if, once Vernon went to work, Aunt Petunia would allow him to play and watch the telly. He hoped so, it was so upsetting to have to listen to it through the door. Harry's heart ached; he wanted to be loved, and have his room back with all the toys. He didn't play with the toys, but he still had the option to be able to play with them, and that's what made it so nice.

By the sounds in the kitchen, it sounded like they had finished breakfast and were getting ready for the day. Harry could hear his uncle's heavy footsteps coming towards his door and he shrunk back in fear, but they went past and up the stairs. A few minutes later another set went up and then they both came stomping back down. Harry wondered what was going on. They footsteps would go up, and then come down; over and over again.

After about twenty minutes they finally stopped and the house was quiet. It was as if everybody went outside. Harry wished he could be with them, as part of the family. But he knew it was impossible, nobody would want a Freak in their family, except another family of Freaks. Harry didn't know where he could find another family of Freaks though; he was the only one he knew.

Harry tried to think of what a Freak was, how could you tell a Freak by just looking at one? Harry thought about himself, but the thing was, he didn't know how he was so much different than people. He looked like people for the most part. He had skin, hair, eyes, a nose, hands, arms and legs just like everyone else. Was it his scar? Harry knew that it was Freaky, his uncle told him so. But did that mean that every Freak had a lightning bold scar?

Harry decided that was how to tell a Freak by looking at one, obviously they would have a Freaky scar like him. What would he do if he did find one though? Harry couldn't hardly go up to it and ask to live with them, it just wasn't done. Harry decided that he was going to stop thinking about it, thinking about a family that he could never have made him sad. And he didn't like being sad.

Harry was trying to think of what else he should think of when his door flew open. It was Uncle Vernon. His face was red but he was smiling, quite evilly Harry thought. "Come here, Freak." Vernon growled. Harry got off his mattress and walked slowly towards his uncle.

"I have something to show you in the back yard." Vernon said, taking Harry's arm painfully and pulled him through the house until they went out the back door. In the middle of the yard, was a small fire. Harry froze, was Uncle Vernon going to put him into the fire? What had Harry done to deserve that? But then he noticed a pile next to it. The pile consisted of clothes and toys, _his_ clothes and toys.

"Dudley, if you would do the honor." Vernon said. Harry looked around for Aunt Petunia, but she wasn't there, so he looked back at the fire. Dudley grinned and picked up a shirt, then tossed it into the fire. Harry tried not to let his hurt show too much, it was only a shirt. Then Dudley started throwing more clothes in until there weren't any left in the pile.

"See that, Freak?" Vernon asked. "You don't deserve good boy clothes. You don't deserve toys either." Vernon picked up a stuffed dog and threw it into the fire. Harry watched as the fur burst into flames and it burned to ash.

"Here." Vernon growled, handing Harry a bear. It was his favorite, the one with the bow on it's neck that he accidentally floated. Harry's heart fluttered, Vernon was allowing him to have the bear? He squeezed it to his chest.

"No stupid, throw it into the fire." Vernon sneered. Harry's heart dropped, he couldn't throw it into the fire! He liked the bear too much.

"Throw it into the fire." Vernon said. Harry shook his head. "Now!"

"No!" Harry yelled, then clamped his mouth shut in horror.

"You stupid, worthless Freak!" Vernon yelled. Harry backed up, still clutching the bear; he knew he was in for it now. "Who says you can talk? Huh? How dare you!" Vernon ripped the bear from Harry's arms and threw it into the fire. Harry blinked back tears as the bear went up in flames. He didn't have much time to mourn though, as Uncle Vernon's fist connected with his face and he stumble back. The force knocked the tears from his eyes and he cowered on the ground.

"Don't you ever talk again!" Vernon screeched, "Freak's aren't good enough to talk! I should throw you into the fire!" Harry's heart stopped completely; surely he wouldn't really throw Harry into the fire, would he? Vernon grabbed Harry's arm and there was no way to explain the terror Harry felt as he was pulled towards the fire. He couldn't breathe and it seemed, the closer they got to the fire, the harder it was to pull air into his lungs. He was getting dizzy; black spots were dancing in front of his vision. He tried his hardest not to scream or yell for help, he tried to make the fire not go out. But at that point, he wasn't sure if it would be worse to make it go out and swallow cleaning chemicals or get thrown in the fire.

He didn't have time to ponder it though, as Uncle Vernon lifted him in the air and dropped him over the fire. Harry's breath caught as he waited for the fire to swallow him up, but when he hit the ground he was not swallowed up, he wasn't even burned. Harry blinked in surprise and looked around.

Harry was in the fire pit all right, but it was completely ash and no fire. He wondered what had happened, the fire was there when Vernon picked him up, he knew it was. So what made it go away? The ash wasn't even hot, what was weird. Usually ash was still hot, even hours after the fire went out. He put his hand on the ground and pushed himself up but was pulled up by his ear.

"You little son of a bitch." Vernon snarled. "I thought I told you NO FREAK STUFF!" Spit flew from Vernon's mouth and onto Harry's face and he stuttered, "H-Hawwy s-sowwy! N-no me-mean to!"

"No. Talking." Vernon hissed dangerously. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, you stupid Freak, NO TALKING! You're not allowed to talk! Should I cut your tongue out? It might actually get you to shut up." Uncle Vernon got an evil glint in his eye, and Harry shook his head violently. Vernon didn't say anything as he grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him inside the house and into the kitchen. He kicked Harry into the wall opened a drawer, pulling out a knife; then turned on Harry.

"Come here Freak." Vernon said holding up the knife. Harry shook his head, his heart beating madly. It looked as if his uncle really would cut out his tongue. "Come here!" Harry lowered his head and slowly stepped forward. Vernon made a growling sound in his throat and slapped Harry in the face, then shoved him to the ground and sat on his chest. Harry's eyes watered from the weight of the man and he couldn't breathe.

"Open your mouth." Vernon said, holding the knife up to Harry's face. Harry clamped his lips together and shut his eyes. "OPEN YOUR MOUTH!" Vernon didn't wait for Harry to open up though; he pried Harry's mouth open with one hand, and pulled his swollen and raw tongue with the other.

Just as Vernon was about to pick his knife back up, a voice made them both stop.

"Vernon! What the hell are you doing?" Petunia shrieked.

"Shutting the Freak up." Vernon growled and turned back to Harry's tongue.

"Let go of him right now!" Petunia demanded. "I don't care how much you hate him, you cannot keep this up! You'll kill him!"

"Good! The little shit doesn't deserve to live! Should have died with his worthless parents!" Vernon hissed, but moved away from Harry.

"I don't want to see you trying to cut his tongue out again. Otherwise I will be making a phone call to Mrs. Goldstein. " Petunia said bravely. Uncle Vernon looked absolutely furious.

"Go to your cupboard." Vernon ground out. "And if you ever, talk again, I really will cut your tongue out, then make you swallow all the cleaning supplies we have. I will make you wish you were never born. You'll be in so much pain you'll beg me to take it away. Oh how you'll beg. And the only way I would be able to is to kill you. And. You. Will. Beg. NOW GO!" Harry got up off the floor and ran to his cupboard as fast as his legs could take him and flopped down on his moldy mattress, then he finally let the tears silently flow down his face.

When he came out of his cupboard a couple hours to do his chores, he noticed that Aunt Petunia had a black eye and a bruise from her cheek bone up to her hair line, and she looked very frightened. Harry tried to ignore it as he washed the dishes, but he couldn't help but wonder, had Uncle Vernon thrashed her like he did to Harry?


	4. A Trip to the Hospital

**Finding Home Chapter Four; A Trip to the Hospital**

Harry spent the next two days in his cupboard. They didn't let him out to do chores, or to use the bathroom, and certainly not to eat. When Uncle Vernon had thrown him in, he had pointed to the mop bucket and told him that that's what he was to use to do his business. Once a day Aunt Petunia would open the cupboard long enough to put a glass of water inside, but then she would close it quickly without saying a word.

Harry wasn't sure what was worse; being in the cupboard and not be noticed, or be let out to do chores and get hit. At least if he got hit around they were paying attention to him. But Harry couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not, or if he was just thinking like that because he'd been attention starved for so long.

Harry had never been so bored in his life. Now that he had a taste of what it was like to be 'loved' being locked in the cupboard was so much more awful. There was absolutely nothing to do except play with a spider that had the unfortunate luck to be stuck in with him.

On the third day his cupboard door opened during the morning, what was weird, usually his glass of water didn't come until the evening. At first the light coming in was enough to blind him, he had to squint and blink against it until he got used to it. When he did he saw Aunt Petunia looking in at him.

"Come here." She whispered. Harry painfully got up and crept forward. "Oh! You healed your injuries." Petunia said softly. "I knew you could." Harry didn't understand, he could still feel the bruises, cuts, and burns, how could they be gone?

Aunt Petunia carefully grabbed his hand and led him down the hall towards the door, then she let go of his hand and told him to stay there. Harry was confused when he saw her go into his cupboard and come out with his blankie.

Aunt Petunia stepped up to him and draped the blankie across his shoulders, then picked him up. When Aunt Petunia opened the door and started walking towards the car, Harry wanted to ask where they were going, but Uncle Vernon's words echoed in his head.

"_Freak's aren't good enough to talk!__ I will make you wish you were never born. You'll be in so much pain you'll beg me to take it away."_

He didn't want that, so he kept quiet. Aunt Petunia set him into the passenger side, then got into the driver's side herself. Harry looked up at her in wonder; he'd only ever been in the car once in his life.

"I'm taking you away." Petunia said a bit stiffly. Harry's heart fluttered, they were leaving? Forever? Harry hoped so; he didn't want to see Uncle Vernon ever again. While looking Petunia, Harry noticed that her black eye had healed a tiny bit, but she had a new bruise on her neck and a bunch on her arms. "I won't let him hurt you anymore." At those words Harry's heart soared. He was so happy he could hardly believe it.

The car ride wasn't that long, about twenty minutes, and Aunt Petunia stopped by the side of the rode. She got out, then went to Harry's side and helped him out.

"I want you to go to that building." Petunia said pointing towards a big white building. Harry eyed it and nodded, waiting for Petunia to come with him. "I'm not coming with you." She said, making Harry's heart drop. Petunia got a strange look on her face that Harry had never seen before, and she said;

"I don't want you." Her voice cracked, "I never wanted you. Go to the hospital and stay there, someone will find you and put you will a family that will want you. Don't tell them about us though, in fact, remember what Uncle Vernon said to you about talking the other day?" Harry nodded, tears in his big green eyes.

"Good. Keep remembering that." Petunia said turning around. "Now go." Harry couldn't see Petunia's face so he had no idea that she had started crying, and the strange look was a pained expression; the pain of telling Harry the lies that she did.

Harry dropped his head and pulled his blankie tighter, then started trudging towards the hospital. He had to cross a street to get there, but there weren't any cars out, so it was ok. It had to be real early in the morning. The betrayal that Harry felt was worse than anything. He thought being locked in his cupboard by himself after a beating was bad, but this stung worse.

As he approached the hospital he was shivering from the early morning chill and he pulled his blankie even tighter, trying to keep the warmth in. His slid down to the ground by the door, thinking that he was all alone, once again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

On the way back to number four Petunia had to stop three times because she was sobbing so hard she almost crashed. She couldn't believe she said all that to Harry, but it had to be done. If Harry told them what they had done to him, they would bring them to jail and give Dudley to somebody else. Petunia didn't mind the jail, she knew they both deserved it, but she didn't want to give up her Dudley.

When she got home she had a half hour before the rest of the family started waking up, so she started to prepare breakfast. She didn't know what she was going to tell Vernon, but she had to come up with something. She was afraid of how he would react, would he take it out on her, or would he take it out on Dudley?

She was just about finished when Vernon came stomping down. She froze when she heard him enter the kitchen, but then continued to cook the bacon.

"Why isn't the Freak doing that?" He growled. She turned around slowly but didn't make his eye.

"He ran away." Petunia whispered.

"What?" Vernon yelled, "You let him get away?" Vernon charged up and smacked her on the face hard enough to knock her over. Petunia's hand shot out to catch herself, landing right on the hot burner. She yelped and pulled her hand off. An image of a scared little boy, sitting outside of the hospital shivering flashed through her mind and she just hoped to God that they would find a loving family for him; he certainly deserved it.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It was almost an hour before anybody came by and noticed Harry. He was sitting there, in the same spot when a shadow loomed over him. Harry curled in on himself and whimpered.

"Hey little guy, who are you?" A male voice asked softly. Harry looked up carefully and saw a man kneeling next to him.

_Freak's aren't good enough to talk!_

Harry clamped his mouth shut and he looked away.

"Can't you talk?" The man questioned. Harry hesitated, then shook his head 'no'.

"Did you get lost?" The man asked. Harry thought for a minute. He wasn't lost. But Aunt Petunia never told him what his story would be. She only said not to tell anybody about her and Uncle Vernon. He thought getting lost would be a pretty good excuse. So he nodded.

"Well let's go inside." The man said, "by the way, my name is Dr. Kimmleman." The man took Harry's hand and pulled him up, then they entered the building. Harry was scared, there were so many people busying about, most of them were wearing the same blue clothes that Dr. Kimmleman was wearing, so he guessed they all were doctors as well.

"Oh who's this, doctor?" A woman asked, coming out of nowhere. Harry jumped slightly and turned around. A woman was standing there, in the same blue clothes.

"I'm not sure. I found him huddled outside and he can't talk." Dr. Kimmleman said.

"Oh the poor dear!" The woman said, "Is he hungry?"

"I don't know." The man said, "I was just about to take him to the lunch room."

"Ok, if you need anything just let me know."

"Will do." Dr. Kimmleman said, pulling Harry away by the hand. They didn't walk very far before they went into a room that had a bunch of tables. He sat Harry down at one of the table, and then went to the refrigerator, pulled out a bundle and brought it back. He sat down next to Harry and unwrapped the bundle, revealing a sandwich.

"Hungry?" The doctor asked. Harry nodded carefully and Dr. Kimmleman broke the sandwich in half and gave one to Harry, then wrapped the other half back up. Harry looked down at the sandwich in his hand and carefully took a bite. It had turkey, cheese, and lettuce on it, and it was probably one of the best sandwiches he'd ever had. He tried to eat slowly, but it was just too good and he was just too hungry, it was gone after only a few minutes.

"Still hungry?" Dr. Kimmleman asked. Harry nodded slowly, so the doctor smiled and unwrapped the other half. Harry ate it almost as quickly as the first and chanced a look at the doctor. He was smiling down at Harry and when to fluff his hair, but Harry flinched away, slightly shaking.

"Alright, let's go have a look at you to make sure you're healthy." Dr. Kimmleman said frowning a bit. Harry nodded and let the man help him off the chair. They walked down a couple hallways until they came to a silver door. Harry didn't know what it was, it had buttons next to it. They were arrows, one pointing up, and the other was pointing down. Dr. Kimmleman pressed the one that was pointing up, but nothing happened.

"This is an elevator." The man said to Harry, "Ever been on one?" Harry hadn't even heard of them before, so he shook his head 'no'.

"We go in, the doors shut, and it brings us either up or down, depending on where you want to go." The doctor explained. Harry was a little worried, it sounded so strange. After a couple more seconds the door suddenly opened and a bunch of people came piling out. Harry shrank back and hid behind the doctor's legs until everyone was out.

"Come on." The man said gently as he pulled Harry into the elevator. Harry didn't like it. It was too small of a space. The man pressed a button and at first nothing happened, but then the elevator jerked to life and it made Harry's stomach flip. It didn't last very long and the door opened, showing them a view of a different looking room. The doctor took Harry's hand again and walked past the door and started down a hall. Harry could feel everyone's eyes on him and it was annoying. He had to remind himself that most of them probably haven't ever seen a Freak before.

Finally they came to a wooden door. The man turned the handle and pushed it in, then led Harry inside. "I'm just going to give you a small checkup." The man said. He bent down and picked Harry up under the arms, then set him down on the bed-counter thingie. Harry looked down at it. It looked like a counter in the middle of the floor, but it was squishy and had a pillow; like a bed with paper covering it. So Harry was very confused.

The doctor put this thing on. There were two things that went into his ears, and a cord with something medal at the end. Harry had never seen one before. He stared as the doctor breathed on the medal thing and lifted his shirt, then placed it on his back. Harry stood completely still, he had no idea what was going on, he didn't know what the medal thing was supposed to do.

"Can you take a deep breath?" The doctor asked. Harry, shaking slightly again, took a anxious breath. "Good." The doctor said moving the thing to the other side. "Again please." And Harry did, feeling a little better when nothing bad happened the first time. Then the doctor slid it the his chest and sat there for a minute, like he was waiting for something.

"Looking good so far." Dr. Kimmleman smiled. Harry had no idea how the doctor knew he was doing well so far with only that, but he wasn't about to ask questions. He waited patiently while the doctor shined a light in his eyes, ears and up his nose, and felt his neck and tummy. Then he had Harry sit up and took out another tool of some sort. Harry was a bit worried, it looked like it could hurt if the doctor got angry at him.

The doctor lowered it to Harry's knee and he tensed, but then looked surprised as he tapped it. His leg bounced on it's own accord, it was such a weird sensation. The doctor did it again and smiled as Harry's leg bounced again.

"Good." The doctor smiled. Then he moved to the other leg, the one with the limp. He really hated his leg, it was pretty worthless. He couldn't feel much with it. Sometimes it was numb and couldn't walk on it at all, and sometimes it was only numb in some places, and it was just difficult to walk on. The only place he had full feeling in it was in his hip, and that generally hurt really bad, like the bones were grinding together. The doctor tapped his thing on his knee and frowned when it didn't bounce like the other one. Harry chewed on his lip, the leg just wouldn't bounce. So the third time the doctor tried it, Harry kicked his knee out; imitating the other one.

"Oh, there it is." The doctor smirked, "That was a tricky one to find." Harry had no idea what he was talking about, find? What was he finding?

"Looks like you're in tip top shape." Dr. Kimmleman said smiling. "Why don't you stay here while I make a phone call?" Harry nodded.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

John Kimmleman stalked down the hospital hallways. He had been so puzzled when he had found the little boy huddled against the wall outside, which had never happened before. So after giving the child a checkup he went and called social services, hopefully they could reunite the child with his family.

He entered the waiting room to wait for Mrs. Goldstein to arrive. It didn't take long before the blonde had stalked through the door, looking determined.

"Alright, tell me everything John." She said.

"Well when I came to work today I found a little boy huddled in a blanket by the building. I found that he couldn't talk and that he was lost. He looks to be about three or four years old." John stated. "I gave him a checkup and he seems to be healthy"

"Alright, show me the way." Mrs. Goldstein said. John nodded and turned to lead the way. It didn't take as long to get to the room because he didn't have to wait for a small child.

"He's in here." John said opening the door.

"Harry?" Mrs. Goldstein asked in shocked.

"You know him, Stacy?" John asked.

"Yes, I just investigated his home." Stacy frowned. "We didn't find anything wrong with the home, but something seemed odd there. His home is twenty minutes away, how did he get here?"

"I couldn't tell you." John shrugged. "So what are we going to do with him?"

"I guess I'll have to bring him back, but I will be questioning his aunt again." She said, then turned to Harry. "You ready to go home Harry?" Harry's eyes widened but he didn't respond.

"Can you tell me how you got here?" She asked softly, "I know you can talk."

_Freak's aren't good enough to talk! You. Will. Beg._

Harry shook his head violently

"Alright." Stacy sighed. Then picked Harry up in her arms. "Thank you for calling, John." Dr. Kimmleman nodded and Stacy carried Harry from the room. Harry's heart seemed to have stopped, they were bringing him back, that was bad. Uncle Vernon would be so mad at him. Harry didn't even pay attention as they made their way through the hospital and into Mrs. Goldstein's car. Harry didn't even notice when they pulled into the driveway. Harry was so discouraged, he was somewhat hopeful before, even if he had been betrayed by his aunt.

"We're here." Mrs. Goldstein said softly. Harry looked up at her, maybe he could get her to change her mind.

"Pweas." Harry said very softly, almost too softly for her to hear it.

"Please what, Harry?" She asked, looking very sad. Harry's courage had evaporated almost as quickly as it came and he couldn't bring himself to utter another word.

"Something isn't right here, I know Harry." She murmured, "But don't worry, I will keep trying. I will do everything in my power to save you." Harry wasn't filled with hope this time; he knew nobody would ever save him. He'd always be brought back, and Harry could almost imagine the punishments. Mrs. Goldstein got out and went to Harry's side to open the door, Harry got out looking very dejected. She took his hand as they went up the door and rang the bell.

Heavy stomping could be heard from in the house, then the door sprang open, showing a very fat man. His face was red, but when he saw Harry it turned an alarming shade of purple.

"Is Petunia Dursley there?" Mrs. Goldstein asked. The man looked furious but yelled, "Woman! Someone's at the door for you." Then he stomped away. A couple minutes later a skinny woman with fingerprint bruises all over his arms and neck showed up.

"You brought him back." She said dully.

"Did you leave him at the hospital?" Stacy frowned.

"You brought him back." She repeated, but had tears in her eyes this time. Harry noticed that Mrs. Goldstein's grip tightened on his hand.

"Where did you get those bruises?" Stacy asked.

"Weren't supposed to bring him back." Petunia mumbled, a couple tears slipping past.

"Why did you leave him there?"

"I can't have him. I don't want him." Petunia said, then whispered to quiet for Harry to hear, "Please take him away. Vernon hit's him something awful."

"Did you give you those bruises as well?" Stacy asked. "What of Dudley, does he hit him too?"

"He didn't give these to me, I got into a fight with my sister in law." Petunia said. "He doesn't hit Dudders. He only hits Harry. We never wanted Harry. We got burdened with him when his parent's died and we had no choice but to take him in. Please take him away."

Mrs. Goldstein nodded, then fished around in her pocket and pulled out a card. "If you need anything…give me a call." She said handing the card to Petunia. Petunia shut the door softly and Stacy led Harry back to the car.

"I guess it's just us for now." Stacy said to Harry, putting him back in the car. Harry didn't seem to care, he knew it was only a matter of time until he got brought back or got hurt by somebody. Mrs. Goldstein got into her side and they pulled away from number four.

They drove for about forty five minutes until they pulled into another driveway. It was a small white house with green trimming, it was rather cute and looked warm.

"This is my place." Mrs. Goldstein said. "You will be staying with me until we can find you a family." Harry wanted to tell her to make sure it was a family of Freaks, but Harry was scared so he didn't say anything.

"It will probably only be a few days at most." She continued. "Well, would you like to see the inside?" Harry nodded so they got out. Stacy pulled out her keys and unlocked the door, then they walked inside. It was warm, not just temperature like. It felt homely.

"Here, I'll give you the grand tour." Stacy said, pulling Harry's shoes off and helping him stand back up. "This is the kitchen." She said. It was the room that the door was attached to, Harry nodded. "This is the living room." She continued as they walked through the opposite door. There were two other doors that were closed. "That one," She pointed to the left. "Is my bedroom. You can stay there since I don't have a guest room, I'll take the couch. The other door in the bathroom." Harry nodded, filing all the information away for later.

"Good, why don't you want cartoons for a while?" She asked turning on the telly. "Here, sit on the couch and relax, I'll see about making lunch and then I've got some phone calls to make." Harry nodded and sat down like she told him to, even if he was afraid of someone rushing through the door and punish him for being bad. He didn't really watch the telly since he was so nervous, at one point he searched the room for the cupboard. But there weren't any stairs, and no cupboard under them. He wondered what she would lock him in if there wasn't a cupboard, did she have a cellar? Harry knew that Mrs. Goldstein said he could stay in her room, but what would happen when she found out what a freak he was?

Harry sighed; with how often he was alone you'd think he'd get used to the feeling. But never before had he felt so lonely. He wasn't just locked up after a beating and craving attention. No, he'd been given away, he was an unwanted burden. Harry had heard Aunt Petunia say so. He'd been so unwanted Aunt Petunia had started crying when he was brought back. Harry remembered the dread he saw on her face when she saw him standing there. Harry wanted to cry, but he didn't want to give Mrs. Goldstein any reason to get rid of him or bring him back. He would just have to be good. That meant no crying, no talking, no complaining, and no being Freaky.

Harry sighed again, it was a lot harder not to cry then he thought. He never thought he would feel so alone; so unloved and unwanted. Harry tried to shove the hurt into the very back of his mind and tried to watch the cartoons.


	5. A Day with Mrs Goldstein

**Finding Home Chapter Five: A day with Mrs. Goldstein**

Harry stared at the telly for quite a while, but he was taking none of it in. After some time, perhaps fifteen to twenty minutes, Mrs. Goldstein walked back into the room. Harry didn't look up, he knew from experience that eye contact was a no-no.

"Harry?" She asked softly. Harry didn't look up.

"Lunch is ready," said Mrs. Goldstein. "I made mac and cheese, do you like that?" Harry had never actually had mac and cheese, but he'd made it a few times for Dudley. He shrugged his shoulders.

"Haven't you ever had it?" She questioned. Harry shrugged again; he didn't know what was safe to let her know, and what wasn't. "Well, come on into the kitchen and eat." She held out her hand for Harry, he took it carefully and hopped off the couch. She smiled down at him as they went into the kitchen.

When they entered, Harry didn't know what to do. He was never allowed to sit at the table at the Dursley's, except on that one week. Harry looked at the table, there was a small plate of mac and cheese and a glass of milk at one chair; he was tempted to go sit down and eat, he was so hungry. He knew though, that if he ever was allowed to sit at the table, he had to wait until everyone else was seated. Mrs. Goldstein didn't look like she was going to sit down though, so he didn't know what to do.

"Why don't you sit down?" She asked gently, taking his hand again and leading him to the spot with the food. Harry eyed the chair and then chanced a peek at Mrs. Goldstein. She was smiling brightly; it almost made Harry smile in return. But he held it back; smiling could be dangerous he knew.

Harry walked the rest of the way to the chair and attempted to pull himself up, but it was a little too high and Mrs. Goldstein had to help him. Harry eyed the food that was on his plate and his eyes widened, not only was there mac and cheese, but there were small chunks of hot dog mixed inside. He'd never seen such a thing; he'd never made it that way for Dudley before. He looked up at the social worker in surprise.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Harry pointed to one of the hot dog chunks.

"The hot dog?" She asked, "Don't you like hot dog?" Harry shrugged, it was another thing he'd never had. In truth, he'd only really had bread, eggs, bacon, sausage a couple different kinds of sandwiches and beef stew before. A couple times he'd had the left overs of Dudley's soggy cereal as well.

"Have you had hot dogs before?" She asked, her eyes narrowing. Harry shook his head 'no'. "Well why don't you try it, I'm sure you'll like it." Harry looked both excited and unsure, but he picked up his fork and stabbed a hotdog along with a couple noodles and popped it into his mouth. It was actually really good; a lot better than he was expecting anyway.

"Well? Do you like it?" Mrs. Goldstein asked. Harry nodded and set his fork down.

"Alright, you stay here and finish eating; I have to make some phone calls." She smiled at him and then swooped out of the room. Harry picked up his fork, but he didn't want to eat anymore. He wondered what she was making phone calls for. She had told him that she was going to find a new family for him, but Harry knew that it wouldn't be a Freak family. He was worried to tell you the truth. Harry didn't know any of the rules at Mrs. Goldstein's, and he didn't know any of the rules at his new future home either. Everywhere obviously had different rules. So far Mrs. Goldstein hadn't made him do a bunch of chores and hadn't hit him. That was very different than the Dursley's where he had to do all the chores and do them quickly, or suffer the consequences.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, picking at his food, but eventually she came back into the room smiling.

"I've found you a temporary home." She said, "When you're finished there, we will go shopping for clothes since you haven't any. Then tomorrow morning we will head over and meet them." Harry nodded and pushed his food away, he couldn't finish it. He was sad, he knew he'd have to leave Mrs. Goldstein eventually, but he hadn't known it would be so soon. She was so nice to him, he was afraid of the new family he'd get.

"Don't you want to eat anymore?" She asked. Harry shook his head and got off his chair. "Well, why don't we take a bath and then have a nap?" Harry's heart sank a bit, he hated baths. He liked being clean, but baths at the Dursley's were always freezing cold, or scalding hot. Harry nodded his head and followed her to the bathroom. Mrs. Goldstein told him to take off his clothes and she started the bathwater. Harry could see steam rising and he felt like he could cry. At least when the Dursley's used cold water he could stand it, but hot water hurt too much.

Harry started to take his clothes off as slowly as he could, but it still was much too quick in his opinion. Once he was naked, she waved him over and he carefully stepped up.

"You can get in now." She said softly and Harry stared at the tub. It was only a bit of hot water, he tried to tell himself, but it didn't work; it looked like a lot of hot water to him and he was scared.

"Harry?" She murmured, "Are you alright?" Harry nodded and looked back at the tub of water; it just sat there steaming, like it was taunting him. He was tempted to plead with her, and tell her that he would be good. But once again his uncle's words echoed in his head, and he kept his mouth shut. He took another step so he was standing right next to it. Harry kind of wanted to feel the water with his hand first, but he knew that it was usually worse when he knew what to expect.

"Do you need help getting in?" Mrs. Goldstein wondered. Harry didn't need help, but he nodded. If she put him in then he couldn't back out and he could just get it done.

"Alright," she said and picked him up under the arms. As she got closer to the tub, Harry's heart started beating wildly and it was getting harder to breathe. At the last minute, right before he was to be lowered into the hot water, Harry whimpered and wrapped himself around her arm.

"Harry, what's the matter?" She asked, bringing him away from the water and standing him back on the tiled floor. Tears were spilling out of Harry's big green eyes and he was near hyperventilating. "Harry?" Harry lifted a shaky hand and pointed at the knob with the 'H' on it.

"Hot?" She asked, confusion written all over her face. Then it dawned on her, "You're afraid that the water is hot?" Harry nodded. "Harry, I would never make you bathe in hot water, it's warm. See? Come here and feel it." Mrs. Goldstein took Harry's hand and dipped it into the water, making Harry gasp. It wasn't hot at all, it was warm! He'd never taken a warm bath before; he had to stop himself from grinning.

"Are you alright now?" She asked and Harry nodded. Mrs. Goldstein picked him up again and this time he didn't cling to her, he shivered as his body was submerged in the warm water. "Can you wash yourself?" Harry nodded. "Alright then, I'll be back." As soon as she was out of the room, Harry allowed himself a small smile. It quickly disappeared though, as he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

"I brought you a shirt to wear for now." Mrs. Goldstein said walking into the room. "I'll just set it on the counter for you, come and get me when you've finished your bath." Harry nodded and she left, leaving Harry all alone. He lifted his head and looked at all the different soaps; there was shampoo and conditioner, and a bottle of body soap. Harry knew he wasn't to use any of those though, Freaks weren't allowed, so he kept searching until he found a bar of soap. He figured that would work fine, so he started soaping his hair. After his head saw scrubbed clean, he dipped it in the water to get all the soap out.

As he was soaping his body, he noticed how much it hurt in certain places. His chest, his bum, and the right side of his face hurt the most; he wondered what had happened to all his injuries. He knew he could feel them, but it was like they were invisible. He shook his head and continued to soap his body, then he rinsed it off and got out.

Next to the shirt she put on the counter, was a fluffy sky blue towel that he was to dry himself off with. It was nice, at the Dursley's he was never allowed to dry himself off. He usually had to use his shirt to dry in between his tows and fingers or he would get rashes. Harry picked the towel up and wrapped it around himself and then began drying himself. When he was as dry as he could be, he slipped on the shirt. It was gray and didn't have any picture of word on it, it came down past his knees. Then Harry stuck his head into the hallway. He had to listen to see where Mrs. Goldstein was, he didn't want her to get mad at him for walking around her house. There was a small clank coming from the kitchen, so that's the direction he went in.

"Harry," said Mrs. Goldstein. "I see you've finished your shower." She was sitting at the table with a cup of tea. Harry nodded. "Ok, let's lie you down for a nap." She stood up and stepped towards him and Harry took a step back. She frowned a bit at that, but didn't say anything. She took his hand and led him to her room. The room was pretty plain, there was a huge bed, a dresser, and two beside tables, one on each side of the bed.

She led him to the side of the bed and Harry looked at the bedside table. There was a picture in a picture frame. It had a much younger Mrs. Goldstein in a flowing white dress, and a brown haired man with glasses, in a tux. Harry wondered if that was her husband, and if so, where he was.

"What are you looking at, Harry?" She asked, turning back to him. Harry pointed towards the man in the picture.

"Oh, that's my husband Keith." She said, "He's away on business. Are you ready for a nap now?" Harry nodded and Mrs. Goldstein picked him up under the arms and laid him on the bed, then pulled the blankets up to his chin. "I'll wash your clothes while you sleep, when you wake up we'll go shopping, alright?" Harry nodded so she turned and left, leaving the door cracked a bit.

Harry sat up, the bed was so big and he was sure that he wasn't really supposed to sleep in it. He wasn't good enough for a bed. He was a dirty Freak that would only contaminate it. Whatever that meant, Harry wasn't sure, but Uncle Vernon used to use it all the time; making it sound really really horrible. He looked around the room, and spotting a closet across from him, he pushed the blankets back and hopped off the bed. He paused for a minute to make sure he hadn't been heard, then he walked softly to the closet, pulled open the door and crawled inside; then after closing the door, curled up on the floor and promptly fell asleep.

Harry woke a few hours later to the social workers high pitched yell.

"Harry? Where are you?" Harry curled in on himself, he couldn't tell if she was angry or not. She sure was loud, and the screeching her voice made was hurting his ears. "Harry!" Suddenly the closet door few open and Harry quickly raised his hand to his face, to protect from any potential blows.

"Harry, what are you doing in the closet?" She asked frowning, "I was worried when I came in to find you gone." Harry backed himself further into the corner, shaking. She knelt in front of him reached forward to brush a stray hair from his face, making Harry flinch.

"Harry, what's wrong?" She asked softly. Harry didn't say anything. "Why won't you talk to me? I know you can, I've heard you…" Harry shook his head violently. He wished there was a way he could tell her that he was a Freak, and that Freaks weren't good enough to talk. Freaks that weren't good enough to sleep on beds, or get food that's been cooked and not out of the trash. He wasn't good enough to have baths that weren't hot or cold, wasn't good enough to have good boy clothes, or toys; he knew he wasn't good enough for any of those things, nor was he good enough to live. He knew it was true, Uncle Vernon had told him over and over again, he wondered why Mrs. Goldstein didn't know. Not that he was complaining mind you, but he knew that once she realized what he was, and what he didn't deserve, the consequences would be most severe.

"Well, come along then." She said taking his hand and pulling him up, "I've washed your clothes, why don't you put them on? They're on the bed; I'll wait for you in the kitchen." She left the room, leaving the door cracked again, and Harry went up to the bed. Sure enough, there was his clothes, folded into a neat stack. Harry frowned as he picked up the shorts. All his clothes were hand-me-downs from Dudley, who was much larger than Harry. They were warn, tattered, and dirty; only having been washed a couple of times. The shorts were so big on Harry that they were long enough to be pants, and he usually used a string to keep them on. The t-shirt was basically the same; the sleeves came down past his elbows, and the bottom of the shirt came almost to his knees. His socks had holes all over them, and were worthless.

After he finished putting on his clothes he opened the door, peered out to make sure nobody was going to ambush him, and crept to the kitchen. The social worker was standing by the counter in jeans and a blue t-shirt, and was drumming her fingers on the counter. Harry gulped, his aunt used to do that when she was impatient, and Uncle Vernon would usually punish him later for being so slow. He took a deep breath and walked through the door way. She saw him immediately and smiled, confusing Harry.

"Are you ready to go, Harry?" She asked. Harry nodded and Mrs. Goldstein took his hand, and then led him to the door way. Harry sat down on the floor and pulled his shoes on, then attempted to tie the shoes, but he didn't know how and they turned into knots. Mrs. Goldstein smiled and said, "Here, let me show you."

Harry watched as she tied his shoes and stored the information away for later, hopefully he could remember it. When she finished she stood up, pulling Harry along with him, and they quietly left the house. She led Harry to the passenger side of the car and helped him in, then she went to her side and got in.

"Clothes or toys first?" She asked. Harry shrugged, in truth he didn't want to go shopping. Remembering what had happened to his toys and clothes last time hurt, and it hurt thinking that he could go through it again. He knew that he wasn't good enough for those things, and his future family would realize that, and all his things would then be destroyed.

Harry looked out the window as the car pulled out of the driveway; there were quite a lot of houses along the way, but unlike at the Dursley's, the houses were actually different. He didn't like that all the houses looked the same before, he imagined that it would be rather difficult to find your way back if you got lost. Harry watched houses, trees, and people all pass by the window until they stopped about fifteen minutes later. Harry recognized the building as the clothes shop. Mrs. Goldstein helped Harry out of the car and taking his hand, led him into the store. It was just like the store that Aunt Petunia had brought him to, only a little bit smaller.

"Let's start over here, shall we?" She asked, pulling Harry towards a rack of shirts. Harry was a bit bewildered as Mrs. Goldstein began pulling shirts off the rack and holding them up to him, all the while muttering to herself; "No, no, completely wrong colour." And "Yes, that might do, a bit too tight though. Better go with a bigger size." And, "That's would be adorable, but it's huge on him, and they don't have a smaller size."

Harry knew he was tiny for his age, and he absolutely hated it. Dudley had always made fun of him because he was so little and Dudley was so huge.

Once they finished with the shirts, they moved to the pants, then pajamas; where she did the same things she had done with the shirts. Then they moved to socks and underwear, and finally shoes. On their way towards the checkouts Mrs. Goldstein saw a blue hooded sweater with a couple of kittens on the front that she thought was just adorable, she picked it off the rack and, even though it was a bit too big, bought it along with the other things.

When they were finished clothes shopping, she took Harry's hand and pulled him down the street towards the toy shop. Harry enjoyed going to the toy shop, but wanted to tell her not to buy him anything. It would hurt too much when the toys got destroyed.

"I want you to pick a couple of toys to keep you busy." Mrs. Goldstein said, "The Millers don't have any other children, so I don't know if they will have any toy's you'll like." Harry nodded and started looking around. He picked three books, a toy train and a couple of cars. They were about to leave when something caught Harry's eyes. It was a stuffed bear, kind of like his other one. It was just a plain brown bear, but it had a red bow on his neck, and Harry wanted it. He was too afraid to ask though.

"Do you want that bear?" She asked, startling him out of his thoughts. Harry tried to shake his head 'no', but the woman only smiled and picked it up off the shelf. After she paid for it she handed it to Harry, who took it as gentle as he could and cuddled it to his chest. He vowed that no matter what happened, he wouldn't let anybody touch that bear. It was to be his new best friend.

When they had finished shopping Mrs. Goldstein put the bags into the car and they drove away. The reached her house in about fifteen minutes. She sat Harry down on the couch and put on some cartoons that Harry didn't watch. He was staring at the bear he had gotten; only taking his eyes off to make sure Uncle Vernon wasn't going to charge through the door and take it from him.

Harry wasn't sure how much time had passed when Mrs. Goldstein came into the room and told Harry that supper was ready. With some coaxing she got him to sit at the table and eat some chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, and drink a glass of milk. Harry was absolutely stuffed, to the point where he was sure he was going to be sick. He held it down though, and concentrated on his breathing like he had learned to do in the past.

After supper was over Harry tried to get up to wash the dishes, but Mrs. Goldstein stopped him with a horrified expression on her face. "Harry, you can't even reach the sink, I don't expect you to clean up." Harry looked down, his face red.

"Did the Dursley's force you to clean up?" Harry shrugged his shoulders. She sighed and said, "Come on then, it is getting a bit late and we have an early day tomorrow." Harry swallowed, he knew tomorrow they would be meeting the Millers, his new family, and Harry was as scared as all get out.

She handed Harry a pair of pajamas with little dogs all over them and told him to put them on. Harry lifted them to his face and smelled, they smelled clean and he figured that the social worker must have washed the clothes while he was watching the telly. He smiled faintly to himself as he dressed, it was nice to have good boy clothes again.

Mrs. Goldstein came in a few minutes later and tucked him into bed, and left, leaving the door cracked again. Harry sat up immediately and went to the closet. Last time he didn't get hit, so he figured that it was a safe place to sleep. He didn't understand why she told him to sleep in the bed when she clearly wanted him to sleep in the closet. Uncle Vernon would always do those kinds of things to him. Like with food. He would give Harry some really good looking food, and then when Harry was about to take a bite he would take it and laugh at him, telling him he was stupid to think he could ever eat like them. Or another time Uncle Vernon would give him good boy clothes and then the next day beat him for stealing from Dudley.

Harry shuddered when he remembered that beating, it left him cupboard ridden for a week. Harry sighed and tried to think about other things, happy things. It worked for a bit. He smiled as he started remembering things; things from before the Dursley's. There was a woman with red hair, and smelled as good as flowers talking to him, telling him she loved him. With those happy thoughts in mind he fell quickly to sleep.


	6. Meeting the Millers

**Warning! There is some disturbing (To me) content up ahead!**

**Finding Home Chapter Six: Meet the Millers.**

The next morning Harry woke to a bright light pouring through the closet door. He slowly blinked his eyes open and peered out, Mrs. Goldstein was standing there staring out at him, a sad expression on her face. Harry whimpered and tried to push himself further into the wall of the closet.

"Harry, why are you sleeping in the closet again?" She asked softly, kneeling down to his level. Harry shook his head violently and tried to cover his face with his arm.

"I will never hit you or hurt you in anyway." Mrs. Goldstein murmured, trying to lower Harry's arm. Harry didn't believe her. He knew that she only wanted him to think that, and then she would get mean again. Harry wasn't stupid; he wouldn't fall for it again. "You know that, right?" She continued. Harry knew she was lying, but nodded anyway.

"Good, now why don't you come out?" She held her hand out so Harry could take it. "Today you will be moving in with the Millers." Harry froze. He had completely forgotten that he would be leaving. Harry didn't want to, he didn't know the Millers, and Mrs. Goldstein was so nice to him.

"What's wrong?" Mrs. Goldstein asked frowning. Harry shook his head. "Well, let's go have some breakfast then." She reached down and gently took Harry's hand and led him to the kitchen, where a plate dish of pancakes was waiting. Harry stared at the plate; he had never had pancakes before and wondered what they tasted like.

"Why don't you sit down and eat while I go make a phone call." Mrs. Goldstein said, and then added, "I just want to make sure that the Millers are able to take you today." Harry nodded and climbed onto the chair to face the pancakes. There were two of them with butter and syrup on them. Harry noticed that the pancakes had little blue dots all over them, Harry narrowed his eyes at them and wondered what they were.

Harry picked up his fork and proceeded to try to dig out one of the blue dots, but when it came out it ended up crumbling. He looked behind him to make sure nobody was there, and used his fingers to pick one out. Holding it up to his face he smelled it, but it didn't have much of a smell, so he popped it into his mouth. He used his tongue to push it around inside his mouth, trying to identify the strange object. It was sweet, but that told Harry nothing so he shrugged and scooped some pancake onto his fork, then pushed it into his mouth. The pancakes were delicious, Harry liked the syrup part the best though.

Harry was just about done when Mrs. Goldstein came back in the room smiling. "Finished?" She asked looking at almost empty plate. Harry nodded and got off his chair, intending to wash his plate. She took it instead and placed it in the sink, then turned back to him.

"I just got off the phone with Mr. Miller." She said kneeling in front of Harry, "He said that they would love to have you today." Harry nodded, but still didn't want to leave. He had a icky feeling in his tummy, he felt like something bad was going to happen.

"Let's go pack your bag." She said smiling. Harry nodded again and Mrs. Goldstein took his hand, then led him to her room where his clothes were sitting on the bed. She lifted him from under the arm and sat him on the bed.

"Stay here for a moment." She said, then turned and left the room; she came back a few minutes later carrying a backpack.

"This was my nephews." She explained, setting it down next to him. It had a big yellow truck on it. "He left it here last time he came over, but he has a new one now so you can have this one." Harry looked into her eyes, then down to the backpack; he reached out and ran his fingers across it slowly.

"Let's start putting your clothes inside, shall we?" Harry nodded and together they began putting all the clothes inside. It only took a few minutes and then it was finished, Mrs. Goldstein zipped the zipper and smiled at him.

"Shall we put your toys in another bag?" She asked, already getting up. Harry nodded and followed her out of the room. They went into the kitchen where she went to a cupboard and pulled out a paper bag. She then motioned for Harry to follow her into the living room, where put all of his toys in the bag except the bear.

"Would you like to carry him instead?" She questioned. Harry nodded and held his arms open. "Alright, why don't you go and get your backpack, then meet me by the door?" Harry held the bear to his chest and ran to her room.

Harry set the bear down on the bed while he pulled the backpack off, then he put his arms through the straps and picked his bear back up. The backpack was a bit heavier than Harry expected and when he tried to step away from the bed, he lost his balance and almost fell over. After straightening himself he quickly left the room and met Mrs. Goldstein at the door like she asked him to.

"Got everything?" She asked him. When Harry nodded she told him to sit down on the ground so she could help him with his shoes. Harry watched intently as she tied his shoes, trying to remember every loop and knot. After she finished she stood up and picked up the paper bag. Harry attempted to stand, but his bloated backpack had other idea as he lost his balance and fell over backwards.

"Here, let me help you." Mrs. Goldstein giggled and took his hand to help him up. She opened the door and nudged him out, then turned and locked it. On their way to the car Harry looked around at his surroundings, he didn't really look much the first two times he was out, but now it was going to be his last time seeing it and wanted to remember it.

Mrs. Goldstein had a small white house with green trimming; it sat in the middle of a big square of grass. There was a big tree to the right of the house; to the left was another house. The other house was brown and was a bit bigger than Mrs. Goldstein's; it looked to have a second floor where hers only had one floor. Further to the right, past the tree, was another house. That house was light blue with dark blue trimming, and looked to have only one floor. All three houses had dirt driveways, but the brown house had a garage branching off the left side of the house. The yard that belonged to the blue house had two trees; one had a tire swing hanging off of one of the lower branches and the yard had toys scattered everywhere.

Behind him was the road and a little further than that was a side walk. Currently there was a man in blue shorts and a white shirt, listening to his music, jogging with his dog. Harry subconsciously moved closer to Mrs. Goldstein as the dog past. He didn't like dogs much, they were scary.

"Are we ready to go?" Mrs. Goldstein asked while opening Harry's side. Harry nodded and attempted to crawl in, but his backpack got in the way, so Mrs. Goldstein reached forward and pulled it off. Harry glanced up at her then crawled in and sat down, she placed the backpack on the floor in front of him and buckled his seat belt. Once she got in and started the car, she pulled out of the driveway and they were on the way.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mike Miller was sitting at the table in his dining room grinning like a loon, with a cup of tea in his hands. He had just got off the phone with Stacy Goldstein and she had said that she was bringing the kid later that day. He couldn't wait, he had always wanted a child, more so a son than a daughter, but he wouldn't have been picky. He smiled as he took a sip of his tea and traced the grains of the wood on the table.

Just then Vivian Miller came busying into the room, putting on her apron as she approached the sink to do the dishes. She didn't look to be in a very good mood and Mike sighed, he knew it was his fault but he couldn't find it to care much; she would get over it and everything would be great.

"I just got off the phone with Mrs. Goldstein a little bit ago." Mike said, staring into his tea cup. He knew this was the source of his wife's anger. He flinched a bit as she moved the dishes around, setting them down unnecessarily hard; managing to actually shattering one of the plates.

"I don't know how I ever let you talk me into this." She hissed, wiping the broken glass into her hand to throw away.

"Oh come on, Vivian." Mike said, "It'll be great, won't it? Having a little boy in the house?"

"No!" She snapped, smashing a cup against the counter. "You know how I feel about children. Nasty little things they are! They are noisy, snot nosed monsters that are always in the way."

"But this one won't get in the way, he doesn't even talk!" Mike protested.

"All the more reason. Who wants a child that can't even talk?" She exclaimed.

"You, apparently." Mike frowned, "You were just complaining that they're too loud."

"Yeah, but I don't want some Freaky mute!" She raged. "You know exactly how I feel, but you insisted anyway! I bet you would have gone through with it if I had said no!"

"You had just as much of a choice as I did on this!"

"Yeah, so you can leave me if I say no?" She asked, tears forming in her eyes. From rage or sadness, Mike wasn't sure. "I won't lose you." Mike's lips thinned.

"I need this." He said, "You know I've always wanted to be a father, but couldn't have my own."

"I don't understand why!" She cried.

"You know exactly why!" He yelled.

"Blood doesn't work that way though!" She said ripping her apron off and throwing it on the counter. "Just because your sister married one, doesn't mean we will birth one! It's impossible considering you don't have any of the blood in you, and I don't have any in me!" Mike sighed and put his head in his hands.

"There's something I haven't told you, or anyone for that matter." He said, "My great great grandmother was a…a…one of them! I do have the blood! And I know if I fathered one of them I couldn't love it, not while it's such a monster!"

"And what if this boy is one of them as well?" She asked, her nostrils flaring. "He's only five, you can't always tell at that young."

"He won't be." He said firmly. He swallowed the last of his tea before he continued. "He's coming from normal people so he will be normal."

"Maybe he was birthed from normal people that had the blood." Vivian suggested. "Have you thought about that?"

"If he is one then we'll just get rid of him and find another child, a normal one." Mike said. It was quiet for a moment.

"What if he pisses me off and I hurt him?" Vivian asked, "You know how I am. I cannot always control my anger, especially around kids."

"You won't hurt him." Mike said confidently.

"If I do?" Vivian questioned. "I do not want this kid, I hate kids, I like hurting them. It would be your fault for making me take him in, when I obviously don't want to."

"Just stay on your medication and leave when you start getting angry with him." Mike said, his eyes flashing with anger. "You will not hurt my little boy." Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Mike shot his wife a glare and stood to answer the door.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

It wasn't a long car ride, it only took them about ten minutes until they were pulling into the driveway of a huge white house. The house had many trees surrounding it and quite a few flower beds that left Harry wondering if he would be told to take care of it, like with aunt Petunia.

"Looks like this is it." Mrs. Goldstein said while unbuckling their seatbelts. She got out and went over to his side and opened the door. Harry put his backpack back on, then picked up his bear. Crushing it to his chest he followed Mrs. Goldstein up to the door, where she proceeded to knock on the door. Harry gulped nervously when he heard footsteps coming to the door. It flew open revealing a man with blonde hair and green eyes, he was kind of big, but not nearly as big as Uncle Vernon. He took one look at Harry and grinned.

"You must be Mrs. Goldstein?" He asked, turning back to the social worker.

"Yes, Mr. Miller I presume?"

"Please, call me Mike." He said, kneeling down to Harry's level. "This must be Harry." Harry nodded and tried to push himself behind Mrs. Goldstein's legs.

"Hi Harry, my name is Mike." Mike held out his hand for Harry to shake, but Harry flinched so much he almost fell over. He would have if Mrs. Goldstein hadn't reached down and steadied him.

"I won't hurt you, Harry." He said, looking at Harry sadly. Harry nodded, but wasn't convinced. Mike stood up and said, "Would you guys like to see the inside?"

"Thank you Mike, I think that would be great." Mrs. Goldstein said taking Harry's hand as they followed Mike into the house. I was chilly inside, and Harry figured he had the air on.

"Wait here for a minute, I'll go get my wife." Mike said, then disappeared down the hall. Harry looked around; there wasn't much to see though. By the door were two pairs of shoes; off to the right was the hallway that Mike had gone down, in front of him were stairs going up, next to them was some stairs going down. Harry took a step forward and looked down them, at the bottom there was a door that was bolted shut. Harry figured that it was to the basement and he stepped back to Mrs. Goldstein.

A couple more seconds later Mike came back with a blonde woman with brown, piercing eyes. Harry flinched away at the look she gave him, it was similar to the one that Uncle Vernon used to give him before he was thrashed.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mike took one look at the little boy and smiled, he was perfect. He was a bit scrawny, and he looked terrified, but the boy had the most precious big green eyes that he had ever seen. He introduced himself and quickly went to go get Vivian. He was sure that she would fall in love with Harry like he did, the boy was absolutely adorable.

He entered the dining room where Vivian stood with her hand on the counter, looking absolutely murderous. He took one look at her and scowled.

"You will behave yourself." He growled, "I will not have you ruining this for me. It wouldn't kill you to smile a bit and be more welcoming." Vivian growled but put on the kindest smile that she could. That was until she saw the little brat. Her smile faded instantly as it finally hit her. She knew that they were to get a young boy, but she had been in denial a bit. Seeing the little monster standing there shaking in fear made her realize that it was true.

God, how she hated children. She told herself she would try, she would try to be kind to the boy, if only for Mike's sake.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"This is my wife Vivian." Mike said, pushing her forward a bit. Her face looked stern, he eyes hard, her lips were pressed; Harry knew he didn't like her, just from the first glance he got of her.

"Hello Vivian," Mrs. Goldstein said, holding out her hand. Vivian looked at it, wrinkling her nose like it was something distasteful, but shook it anyway. Then she wiped her hand on her skirt, sneering at the social worker. Mrs. Goldstein didn't seem to notice and asked to see the house. Harry didn't pay much attention to what was going on around him, he was too caught up in his misery. He knew it would be bad once Mrs. Goldstein left, he could feel the glares that Vivian was giving him, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"And this is Harry's room!" Mike exclaimed. Harry's head snapped up to look. The room was small, but nothing as small as his cupboard. The walls were painted in a soft green, and there was a small bed pushed up against the far wall with a bedside table by it. In the corner there was a dresser, and on the right wall was a closet.

"I know there isn't much in it right now, but we'll take you shopping later for toys and such." He said softly, Harry's eyes narrowed and he extracted his left arm from his bear to point at the paper bag that Mrs. Goldstein was holding.

"What's that?" Mike asked, eyeing the bag with curiosity.

"Oh, these are his toys." Mrs. Goldstein informed, handing the bag over.

"Oh good, I was worried that there wouldn't be anything for him to play with before we could go shopping." Mike said, placing the bag on top of the dresser. "Why don't you start unpacking while the adults go talk for a little bit?" Harry nodded.

"Good boy." Mike said and stood. Harry waited for them to close the door before he finally let out the breath that he hadn't known he was holding. He shrugged his back pack off and carried it over to the dresser. He couldn't reach any of the drawers except the bottom one, so he pulled it open and started putting his clothes in.

He folded everything as neatly as he could, then placed the pants on one side, shirts next to the pants, then his pajamas, finally his sweater and his socks and underwear. He spent as much time as he could making sure everything was straight and absolutely perfect, before his door opened. Harry turned around slowly.

"I'm leaving now, Harry." Mrs. Goldstein said softly shutting the door. Harry's heart dropped and he felt tears spring in his eyes. "Harry? What's wrong?" She asked, coming fourth and kneeling in front of him. Harry sniffed and tried to look away, but she pulled his chin so he was looking her in the eye.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" She asked softly. Harry thought for a moment. He was scared to talk, but maybe if he told her that he was unwanted here, he would take him away. If she didn't though, he would be in so much trouble; he knew he wasn't supposed to talk. He wasn't good enough to talk.

"Pwease no weave Hawwy." Harry said brokenly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Don't leave you?" She asked, sadness filling her face. "Harry, they will take good care of you here. I've only heard good things about these people, they will love you."

"Giwl no wan' Hawwy." Harry sobbed, then flung himself at Mrs. Goldstein. "No weave Hawwy!"

"Girl? You mean Vivian?" She asked, wrapping him in her arms. "Of course she wants you, she wouldn't have agreed otherwise." Harry shook his head, he knew when he was unwanted.

"Why don't you think she wants you?" Mrs. Goldstein questioned, but didn't receive an answer. It didn't look like Mrs. Goldstein was going to take him, and he already messed up enough for talking, he wasn't going to mess up more. Mrs. Goldstein sighed.

"Well how's this, in one week exactly I will stop by for a visit to see how you're doing?" Harry nodded in acceptance, but wondered if she was telling the truth, or if she was lying. Harry couldn't tell. Mrs. Goldstein gently kissed his forehead and stood, "I'll see you in a week then, behave." Then she was gone.

Harry didn't last the full week.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Vivian tried to be nice to the brat, she really did. She spent as much time away from him as she could at first, especially when she was getting particularly annoyed. On the first day though at supper she noticed something. Harry stabbed a pea with his fork with one hand, but the other hand was brought up and brushed his bangs away, showing his forehead. Her stomach dropped and her blood instantly boiled.

She wasn't completely stupid. The husband of Mike's sister was a wizard and while they didn't normally associate with them, every once in a while they tried to talk to them. They would allow it until they started talking about magic and what not. She remembered a couple years ago they were trying to tell them about a boy who was orphaned when an evil mad man killed his parents. She remembered how the boy was supposed to have a lightning bolt scar on his forehead, and that's what Harry had.

Vivian decided that she wasn't going to try, this boy was obviously one of them. Not only was the boy a child, which she hated with a strong passion, he was also a wizard, which she also hated with a strong passion. She knew she shouldn't have agreed to take the boy, even if she did lose her husband.

She knew children didn't deserve to be abused, she knew it. But she couldn't help it. Whenever she saw a child she felt the strong urge to hurt them, it's like she would lose herself for a while. She rarely even noticed when she was hitting a child until it was already over.

She decided that she wasn't going to tell Mike. He wanted the child, she didn't, but he threatened her with divorce if she didn't agree. She would let him find out about the little Freak on his own.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

After the first day Harry decided that he liked Mike. He was always really nice to Harry. Mike would take Harry out during the day, usually to the park, even though Harry refused to leave the bench to go play, then at night he would read Harry a story and tuck him in.

Vivian on the other hand, was mean to Harry. She didn't beat him to a living pulp like Uncle Vernon would have done, she didn't burn him on the stove or force him to drink painful chemicals, but she would hit him whenever Mike wasn't around.

It wasn't bone breaking hits or anything, but they certainly left bruises. Harry could feel the bruises littering his skin, but they never showed. Vivian noticed that he wasn't bruising and never bled.

On the fifth night Vivian came into Harry's room after he was already asleep, she was carrying one of Mike's belts. To wake Harry up she slapped him in the face and said, "Wake up, brat!" Harry was awake instantly, took one look at the belt and started looking around for Mike, he knew Mike wouldn't let her thrash him.

"He's out gambling with some friends." Vivian sneered, as if she read Harry's mind. Harry started shaking as Vivian reached forward and pulled him off the bed.

"Take your shirt off." She demanded. With shaky hands Harry complied, he knew to never disobey a direct order. He pulled his shirt off and set it on the bed. "Lean over the bed with your back to me." Tears now rolling down his face, he obeyed.

The first strike cause him to gasp, but then he quickly pressed his lips together and refused to make any more noises as the next three hit. The fourth one caused a miserable sob to escape his chapped lips.

"Why won't you bruise?" She demanded, hitting harder. Harry couldn't control his sobs anymore.

"Why *smack* won't *smack* you *smack* BRUISE?" She demanded, getting wilder with the belt. Harry wished with all his heart that they would show, at least just the ones she was creating. He figured she would stop if the marks showed. Suddenly the hitting stopped and he heard giggling from behind him. He was too pained to turn to look, and didn't have to.

"That one sure left a mark, you're bleeding." She said softly. Harry sighed in relief, now she would stop. Harry shuddered as he felt her bend down and something soft and wet trailed up his back. She spun him around and he noticed that it had been her tongue, she had blood around her lips; Harry shuddered again in disgust. Suddenly Vivian let go and Harry collapsed on the floor. When he looked up she was gone, so he laid his head back on the floor. His limps were trembling too much to try to stand.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Vivian shut the door behind her and instantly realized what she had done. She lifted the belt and saw that it had blood all over it. She dropped it in repulsion, she was disgusted with herself. How could she do that to a five year old. She vaguely wondered if he was alright, but it quickly vanished when the disgust she felt turned into full blown loathing and hatred with the boy.

It was all his fault that she was appalled with herself. If he hadn't been in the house, she wouldn't have gotten angry. If he hadn't been a wizard and making his marks disappear, she would have to whip him. She figured that maybe she could beat the magic out of him. Make him loathe it so much that it goes away.

Calming herself, Vivian straightened her shirt, picked up the belt to clean it. It wouldn't do any good for mike to find it and wonder. At least if he found the marks on the kid's back she could say he ran away and some older kids got a hold of him. The kid was too stupid to tell him what happened anyway.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next morning when Harry woke, all evidence of the night before was hiding. He still hurt immensely, and didn't know how, but he managed to stand up and walk to his dresser and got dressed.

After he was dressed he sat down on his bed and waited for Mike.

That day Mike noticed something was wrong with little Harry, but Harry didn't say anything when asked. He couldn't tell what was wrong with the boy, it was like he was in constant pain but there were no marks. He decided that if nothing changed by the next day he would take Harry to the doctor.

The next night Harry woke up screaming from a nightmare. In his nightmare Vivian and Uncle Vernon got together and had their fun with him, beating him until he couldn't move. Then a monster came, there was a woman screaming, then just green light.

Immediately Harry noticed that he hadn't just woke up screaming, he'd had an accident as well. Suddenly the door flew open, Harry was hoping it was Mike, but it was Vivian, and she was holding the belt. Harry whimpered and scampered back against the wall. Vivian took one look at Harry and his wet bottoms and rage filled her eyes; the monster within Vivian seemed to make itself present again.

"You little shit." She growled, stomping forward. She grabbed Harry by the hair and shoved his face into the wet sheets. Harry squirmed and wept and tried to get away, but Vivian had to strong of a hold on his hair. Harry tried to hold his breath so he wouldn't have to breathe it in, but one smack on his backside with the belt cause him to gasp; his face was shoved so hard into the sheets though, that he couldn't get any air. He gaged at the smell, but another smack caused a sob to escape. He didn't care anymore how much it hurt his hair, he began fighting with all he had, he couldn't breathe and his lungs were going to burst. If anything it made Vivian hit him harder. Three hits later a voice rang through the room.

"Vivian, what the hell is going on?" Mike yelled, suddenly the hand was off his head and he flung himself off the bed and crawled over to his newly added desk. He was sobbing so hard he couldn't get any air into his lungs, his face was still wet and he smelled.

Mike was standing between him and Vivian, who was standing with her hands on her hip, the belt still hung loosely in one hand.

"The little shit pissed the bed like some kind of animal." Vivian growled, "So I was treating him like one."

"Vivian, every child has accidents, what you have done is completely unacceptable." He told her sternly, and then turned to look at Harry who was nearly catatonic. He took a step forward, but stopped when Harry bawled louder and the chair from the desk shot out and placed itself between them. Mike's face paled and he took a step back.

"No…" He gasped. "You…You're…You're one of them!" he finally hissed, anger and betrayal in his voice. Vivian had a look of glee on her face, Mike's face turned to one of rage.

"My sister married one of you!" Mike spat. "He's a monster! A Freak! And now I have one in my house! I won't have it! Get up." Harry curled in on himself.

"What are we going to do?" Vivian asked, looking at Harry hungrily.

"We'll lock him in the basement and then send him back tomorrow." Mike said calmly. "Go bring him down; I'll call Mrs. Goldstein now. Don't hurt him though, even he doesn't deserve to be punished more than he already has." Vivian grinned as she stepped towards Harry and grabbed his arm.

"You'll like the basement." She hissed, dragging him up and digging her long nails into his flesh. "I knew what you were from the first day. I figured it would be a matter of time before my dear husband learned of it as well, you monster."

Harry sniveled brokenly all the way down the stairs until she yanked the basement door open and shoved him in, then slammed the door closed with a bang. The sound of locks could be heard from inside.

Harry tried to control his tears and he crawled to the corner. There wasn't much in the basement. The floor was concrete as well as the walls, and there were spiders and cobwebs everywhere. He curled up on the floor, with his back pressed to the wall, and closed his eyes. He didn't understand what had happened. He hadn't meant to have an accident, and he hadn't meant for the chair to come flying out. He didn't mean to be a Freak, but he supposed it couldn't be helped, he was born a Freak, and now his first real family had found out.

Harry almost got excited when he remembered that they were going to send him back, but then he realized that they would tell Mrs. Goldstein what a Freak he was, and she would probably bring him back to the Dursley's where he belonged. Harry lifted his shirt to his face and attempted to wipe the urine off, but it had dried so it wouldn't come off completely. He let out a desperate sounding sob and pulled his knees to his chest. At least Uncle Vernon never rubbed his face in it, he only took the belt to him or tied him up in the back yard overnight.

Too exhausted to cry anymore Harry was still hiccoughing, but closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.


	7. Back with Mrs Goldstein

**Finding Home Chapter Seven: Back with Mrs. Goldstein**

It was around two in the morning, when a loud ringing sounded in a quiet, soft snore filled room. The snores paused but then continued as the sleeping body rolled over, and sleepy nonsense was mumbled. The ringing stopped for a couple of minutes and then started up again.

Stacy suddenly jumped awake at the sound and looked at the clock, then a sense of dread filled her soul. She found that getting calls that early in the morning was never a good thing. She quickly dove over the bed to grab the phone, crashing to the floor as she did so. She clutched the phone in her hand and quickly controlled her breathing, then answered the phone in as a calm a voice as she could manage at the time, which wasn't very calm.

"Hello? Hello!" She called into the phone, "Who is it?" There was a pause on the other line, then an angry sounding voice replied.

"Come and get him." The voice said, "We do not want him anymore." Stacy was confused at first, then it registered.

"Mr. Miller?" Stacy asked, slightly taken aback. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"The child you brought us is a monster, a Freak!" Mr. Miller growled, "Come and take him back, we don't want him."

"Wait, tell me what happened." Stacy demanded angrily. She had been rather worried about Harry, but had been hoping that the Millers had worked out.

"He's a Freak! Why didn't you warn us that he was?" Mike asked. "Just…Just come and get him!" Stacy didn't have time to respond as Mike hung up his end of the phone. Stacy sighed and reached up to put the phone back on the table, then got off the floor and stumbled to the bathroom. She glanced at her appearance in the mirror and frowned. She looked like hell; her hair was all over the place and she had huge dark circles under her eyes.

In truth, she had been very worried about Harry the whole week, and got very little sleep. She had wished a few times that she had only said a couple of days, instead of a full week. But she knew that she had to give the family a chance to settle with the child.

Stacy sighed again as she pulled a brush roughly through her hair and brushed her teeth, then she went to her room and threw some clothes on. Then she quickly got into her car and started on her way to the Millers. She made it in record time, only speeding a little bit…Oh alright, she sped a lot.

As soon as the car was stopped she jumped out, not even shutting the car door, and ran up to the door and knocked loudly. The door flung open to reveal a very angry looking Mike.

"Vivian!" Mike turned and hollered, "I'll go get the brat, stay here with Mrs. Goldstein." Vivian looked angry, but not as angry as Mike, as she came down the stairs. She handed her Harry's bag, then crossed her arms and glared at Mrs. Goldstein until Mike was gone from view.

"He's a wizard." Vivian said sourly. "That's why his previous family abused him, it's why we don't want him. We don't want that thing dirtying out house."

"Wizard? What are you talking about?" Stacy asked bewildered.

"He can do magic."

"That's mad. Of course he can't, magic isn't real." Mrs. Goldstein said.

"No, it's true." Vivian said, her face was red and it looked like it was physically hurting her to talk about it. "Haven't you noticed that his skin never has any bruises? Every child gets bruises on a regular basis. When they fall, bump into something… you know. Anyway, that Monster used his magic to hide them all. You can tell, his skin is completely unblemished except for that hideous scar on his forehead."

Mrs. Goldstein's eyes were wide as she thought about it…Magic would explain a lot of things, but magic wasn't real…was it? She shook her head, it couldn't be.

"I'm only telling you this so you don't put him with another family of normal people." Vivian said as Mike came back dragging a very dejected looking Harry roughly behind him. When they got close the smell of urine filled the air and Stacy looked sadly at Harry, who seemed to be covered in it.

"Thank you for telling me." Mrs. Goldstein said softly as she reached forward and picked Harry up, ignoring the urine. She quickly left the house, put Harry in the car and they drove away from the horrible house.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry was sleeping fitfully when the basement door flew open. He didn't wake, but curled in on himself as if sensing danger in his presence.

"Get up brat!" Mike said, nudging Harry with his foot. Harry immediately shot up, even before his eyes were open. He whimpered and turned into the corner, then covered his face with his arms.

"I said come on!" Mike reached over and grabbed harry by the ear and forcibly pulled him out. Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out as he was dragged painfully along the basement by his ear. When they got to the stairs Mike let go of his ear and latched onto his arm instead, then began dragging him up.

At the top Vivian and Mrs. Goldstein were standing there, looking at him. Harry looked away, he was pretty sure that Vivian had told Mrs. Goldstein what a Freak he was, so he was sure that she wouldn't want him anymore.

Mrs. Goldstein reached forward and gently took Harry's arm, but it caused him to flinch slightly anyway. After learning of his Freakishness, he figured she wouldn't be nice to him anymore. But then Harry realized that she was tricking him. She was only pretending to be nice, then as soon as he started to believe it, then she would do something to hurt him.

As she put him into the car, Harry decided that he would just not believer Mrs. Goldstein if she did anything nice to him. He wouldn't accept it; he wouldn't eat her food, or wear good boy clothes if she offered. It was the only way, Harry was sure, that he could be safe.

When they got to Mrs. Goldstein's house Harry watched as Mrs. Goldstein got out of her side and walked across the front of the car to his side, then she opened the door. Harry flinched when the door opened and started backing up. Mrs. Goldstein frowned and knelt down.

"Harry," she said softly, "won't you come into the house with me? We need to get you into the bath." Harry blushed in embarrassment and looked away, he knew he looked and smelt disgusting. Mrs. Goldstein held out her hand, but Harry didn't take it. He crawled around out and hopped out of the car, then followed Mrs. Goldstein up to the door.

Once they got inside Mrs. Goldstein sat Harry down on the floor and helped him remove his shoes, then went to help the boy up, but Harry flinched and scooted away fearfully. Mrs. Goldstein frowned and knelt down before him.

"Harry, you know I won't hurt you." She said softly, "You do know that, right?" Harry didn't look at Mrs. Goldstein, he kept his eyes trained to the flood.

"Come on," she said, "we have to get you in the bath." Harry dodged the hand that she was going to place on his shoulder and stood up, waiting for her to lead to the bathroom. He didn't want to take a bath, now that she knew about him, she probably would make the water way too hot, or way too cold.

When they entered the bathroom Mrs. Goldstein went straight to the bathtub and turned the water one. Harry watched carefully as she turned both the cold and the hot tap on, and was confused. He knew from before that cold and hot made warm, but why would she give him a warm bath? Unless maybe she just turned both taps on to make him believe that it was warm, when really she turned more hot on than cold, so it would still be hot. Yes, Harry was sure that is what she did.

"You can take your clothes off now." Mrs. Goldstein said. "Would you like to bathe yourself?" Harry didn't give a reaction, he just took his clothes off and stepped up to the tub. He didn't get in though, he stood and stared at it for a while.

"It's not cold." Mrs. Goldstein said. Harry closed his eyes, that meant it was hot. He hated when it was hot.

"It's not hot either." She said, as if reading his thoughts. Harry's eyes snapped open and looked at the water again. It was steaming, but he remembered how it steamed last time, even though it wasn't hot. "See?" Mrs. Goldstein knelt down and stuck her arm in the water. Harry noted that she hadn't snatched her arm back, gasping in pain. In fact, she was actually smiling.

Harry looked back at the water, then reached down and put his own arm in. It was almost the perfect temperature, he almost sighed in contempt; he had to stop himself though.

"Would you like to bathe yourself then?" she asked, "Or do you want help?" Harry ignored her and lifted his leg over the side of the tub and got in, the water sloshing against the side as he did so. Then he reached forward and picked up the bar of soap.

"Alright then, I'll bring you some clothes and you can come find me when you're finished." She didn't say anything more before she left, leaving the door open behind her. Harry sighed shakily when she was gone, the warm water was very painful on the wounds on his back and it took all of his willpower not to cry out. He turned his head slightly and tried to look at his back, but it hurt too much so he gave up.

Harry took the soap of the side of the tub and rubbed it on his hands to lather them up. When his hand had as much soap as he could get, he started scrubbing it into his hair. He felt disgusting; his hair felt greasy, his face was crusty, and his whole backend felt sticky, kind of like dried blood. But Harry hadn't seen any blood, but then…could it be hiding? Like all his bruises and stuff?

When Harry had finished with his hair he got the bar of soap again and started washing his face and behind his ears. He was glad when he got the pee off and was able to smell other things. Harry was about to start washing his body when he looked down at the water and gasped, the water was turning pink. Mrs. Goldstein chose that moment to come in with Harry's clean clothes. When she saw the pink water she gasped and the clothes fell from her hands. Harry saw the look on her face and mistook it for anger, and she shrunk back as she strode forward.

"Is that blood? Where are you bleeding?" She asked, reaching forward and turning him, inspecting him for injuries. When her hand grasped his shoulder, Harry was unable to keep in the pained moan that escaped his lips and she immediately let go.

"Good Lord," She stated bewildered, "I think she was right, you can do magic, can't you?" Harry's eyes went big and he clamped his hands over his ears, magic was a bad word. He turned and eyed the door way, half expecting Uncle Vernon to come charging in the room and punish him.

"Harry." Mrs. Goldstein said gently as she pulled his hands away. "You have to show me your injuries; I can't help them heal if you don't." Harry didn't look at her; he didn't know how to make his injuries visible. It was just something that would happen…

"Can you at least tell me where they are?" She asked. Harry thought for a moment, tell her where they are would be letting her hurt him, but he didn't have much of a choice. So he pointed to his back, that was where most of the hurt was. Mrs. Goldstein reached over for the bar of soap and lathered her hands.

"First I'm going to have to clean it. That way it will be less likely to get infected." She said carefully trying to turn Harry around. Harry didn't want to turn around, he knew never to turn his back on anybody. It was easier for them to get you if you did. After she tugged on him a little Harry finally turned around and let her begin cleaning.

. . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When Stacy had come into the bathroom to bring Harry some clean clothes she had been startled to see the water turning pink. It looked just like blood but she didn't see any cuts on the boy, but then Vivian's words echoed in her mind. Magic. Wizard. Harry. She didn't even realize that she dropped the clothes on the floor as she came forward and began inspecting Harry.

The boy looked absolutely terrified when she said the word 'magic' and Stacy frowned. If he was magical, why would he be afraid of hearing the word? Unless the Dursley's would punish him for saying the word, and probably doing magic. She honestly didn't know what to think, she had never dealt with a child like Harry before. She'd never dealt with a magical child, or one as traumatized as Harry for that matter. She didn't quite know what to do.

Harry refused to show her the cuts, but by the water colour and the way Harry held himself that they were quite bad. But what was she to do when he wouldn't show her? She wondered if she could contact another magical person, but she shot that idea down when she realized that she had never met one before, so she had no idea how to find one.

After coaxing the child to turn around she began to gently clean his back. Stacy was sure that she could feel the cuts and welts, and it was confirmed when every time she went over one Harry was gasp and arch his back. When her hand moved towards the middle of the child's back she noticed her hand was starting to turn red. She removed her hand and stared bewildered at it for a couple of minutes. It was so strange how the child was bleeding, but no cuts were visible. Suddenly she remembered back when she visited Harry's house and asked him to remove his shirt, she remembered the couple of scars on his body. Now looking, there wasn't a single one.

Stacy shook her head and quickly finished cleaning Harry. She carefully picked Harry up and stood him on the floor, she then turned and picked up a fluffy green towel to dry him off with. She took extra care not to irritate the injuries any further than they already were, but it was hard not to when she couldn't seem them. Stacy wrapped the small boy in the towel and picked him up carefully, then carried him to her room and set him on the bed.

"Stay here for a minute." She said and walked back out of the room. She walked back into the bathroom and picked up Harry's dirty clothes. Turning them inside out she saw lines of dried blood all of the inside of Harry's shirt. It looked like the injuries were from his shoulders down to his lower back, and nowhere else. She dropped the clothes in the dirty clothes hamper and picked up his clean clothes. When she got back in to the room though, Harry was gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry was confused. Mrs. Goldstein was being really nice to him. He was sure that once he turned his back on her she would hurt him, but she didn't. She hadn't hurt him the whole time he was with her, not on purpose anyway. She hadn't burned him, hit him, kicked him, slapped him, or anything really. But he knew better, she was tricking him. Later he would get his punishment. He really hated waiting for them, the longer the wait, the more anxious he got.

Mrs. Goldstein set Harry on the bed and left the room. She had said to stay, but Harry knew he wasn't really allowed on the furniture. When she came back she was sure to punish him, he knew it. Harry bit his lip, not knowing what to do. If he got off he was disobeying a direct order, but if he stayed he would get in trouble. Then he spotted the closet.

Harry figured that if he went and shut himself in the closet she shouldn't be too mad. At least he wouldn't be dirtying her furniture with his Freakiness. With that thought in mind he slipped off the bed and padded across the floor. Half way there he realized that he still had the towel wrapped around him, so he turned around and set it on the bed. Then he turned, naked, and crawled in to the closet, shutting the door softly behind him.

It only took a few minutes for Mrs. Goldstein to return, Harry could hear her footsteps come in and stop in the door way. He bit his lip wondering how mad she was. Had he done the right thing? Should he have left the towel on the bed? Would she get mad at him for going around naked? Uncle Vernon never really cared, and sometimes he would make Harry go the day without clothes for a punishment.

Harry could hear the footsteps moving around the room and held his breath when they stopped outside of the door. As quietly as he could he crawled over to the corner and sat with his knees up to his chest. He shivered from cold and from fear as the door swung open. Harry made sure not to look her in the face, he knew that wasn't allowed. But then he couldn't tell if she was mad or not, he turned his head and buried his face into his knees.

"Harry, why are in the closet again?" Mrs. Goldstein asked softly, kneeling down in front of him. Harry didn't respond so she reached forward and ran her fingers through his hair. "Does the closet make you feel safe?" of course there wasn't any answer. "You know, when I was a girl I used to hide in my closet as well. Nobody bothered me while I was there." Harry's eyes flickered up for a split second to try to figure out what Mrs. Goldstein's mood was. She was smiling, what Harry thought was strange. Wasn't she mad?

"Why don't you come out and we'll put some clothes on?" She suggested, standing back up. Harry slowly stood and followed her out of the closet, he spotted the clothes on the bed and paused. They were good boy clothes. It must have been another trick, he wasn't supposed to wear them, not really. He frowned and looked away, he didn't know what to do.

"Do you want help dressing?" Mrs. Goldstein asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. Harry shook his head, he didn't need help. "Alright, I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready." She left the door cracked a bit when she left.

Harry looked back at the good boy clothes and continued to frown. He wondered if he still had some of his clothes left, the ones that were full of holes and were way to big. Harry looked around the room and saw his backpack. He bit his lip thoughtfully, they were probably in there. He remembered sneaking them in there when Mrs. Goldstein wasn't looking. He knew he would need them eventually, and he was right.

Harry quickly walked over to the backpack and opened it. Digging through all the clothes, he pulled out his shirt and trousers. Looking around to make sure nobody was in the room he slipped the clothes on and quickly left the room to go to the kitchen. Mrs. Goldstein probably had a huge list of chores for him to do, and it was better to just get it done. Or at least try to.

When he entered the kitchen he stood there and waited for instruction. Mrs. Goldstein turned to look at him and blinked in confusion. After a couple of seconds she asked, "Harry, why are you wearing those?" Harry looked away in embarrassment. He hated wearing the clothes, but he knew it was the only way.

"Where are the clothes I set out for you?" Mrs. Goldstein questioned further. When no answer came she asked, "Do you want to wear the clothes you are right now?" Harry almost shook his head, but Uncle Vernon hated when he did, so he nodded. Mrs. Goldstein looked defeated and sighed, but then told Harry to sit at the table. Though it seemed a bit odd, Harry sat down at the table like she told him to. She opened the fridge and turned around holding a plate of salad. Harry looked at it hungrily, but told himself he wasn't going to eat it.

After an hour of Mrs. Goldstein coaxing Harry to eat the salad she gave up, he just refused to eat it.

"Why won't you eat it Harry, don't you like salad?" She asked, worry etched in her face. Harry nodded, he did like salad. But he was never allowed to have it. The only reason he knew was because the Dursley's tried to feed Dudley a salad once but he threw it on the floor and demanded cookies instead. The Dursley's had told Harry to clean it and then left the room. Harry had snuck a couple pieces of lettuce when they were gone.

"Aren't you hungry?" She questioned. Harry shook his head. Even though he was very hungry, he knew it was worse to start eating and then have it taken away after the first bite. Finally Mrs. Goldstein sighed and brought Harry into the living room and put some cartoons on the telly.

When Mrs. Goldstein came back twenty minutes later Harry had gotten on the floor, curled up with his back to the couch, and had fallen asleep. She decided to let him sleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Later that night after Stacy had put Harry to bed, she was sitting in the living room thinking of what to do. She had made a huge mistake leaving Harry with Mike and Vivian. She had heard good things about them, but didn't personally know them that well. The next family she would place Harry in would be a family she knew well.

But the thing was, she couldn't think of anybody who would be good for Harry. None of them had experience with a child so traumatized. She sighed in frustration and put her head in her hands.

Suddenly she had an idea. There was a family who she knew pretty well, she had placed many children with them and all of them and there never had been any complaints. Their names were Eleanor and Ryan Atkinson. All the children they had been fostering had been adopted, so there weren't any other children at the moment. Stacy knew that Eleanor and Ryan usually fostered girls, but she was sure once she explained the situation they would agree. They were very good traumatized children and would be perfect for Harry.

She decided that tomorrow she would call them and explain the situation; she would tell them that Harry was magical and let them think about it. A couple days later she would call back and see if they agreed or not. Stacy lay down and stretched across the couch. Closing her eyes she hoped that they agreed, she was positive that they wouldn't hurt Harry.


	8. Poison

**Warning: This chapter contains sexual abuse. You have been warned!**

**Finding Home Chapter Eight: **Poison

Harry and Mrs. Goldstein were in the car on their way to the Atkinson's house. Apparently Mrs. Goldstein called the Atkinson's house and told them of Harry's Freakishness and waited for them to decide if they wanted Harry. Then she called back in a couple of days to see what their answer was. They said yes, so that's where they were headed.

Harry was scared. He didn't understand why Mrs. Goldstein had to tell them about his Freakishness, but now they knew, and that only meant trouble. It seemed to Harry that people always hurt him more if they knew than if they didn't. Like with Mike and Vivian. Vivian was always mean, but Mike really seemed to have liked Harry, until he found out, that is.

Harry shook his head and looked out the window as they came to a stop, he could only just barely see over the edge so all could see was the tops of houses and trees. The house they had parked next to was really big. It was a soft yellow with a big yard with a couple of trees and a lot of flowers in it. Harry scowled, every house he went to had flowers, and while Mike and Vivian never made him do yard work, he was sure this family would, and he didn't like doing yard work.

"We're here, Harry." Mrs. Goldstein said kindly. Harry didn't look at her, even after almost a week he still didn't trust her. She said she wouldn't ever hurt him, but she had given him to Mike and Vivian, and they had hurt him. And now she was giving him to the Atkinson's, who Harry knew nothing about except that they had fostered girls before and that they were supposed to be really good people. But that's what Mrs. Goldstein had said about Mike and Vivian. But it was a lie, they weren't good people, not to Harry anyway.

"Alright, let's get you out." Mrs. Goldstein sighed. She got out of her side and went around to Harry's. She opened the door and stepped back because she knew Harry didn't like it when she offered to help him out. After he was out she went to the back and picked up his bag and teddy.

"Would you like to hold your teddy?" She asked, handing him the bear. Harry took it carefully and held it to his chest as they made their way to the door. When Mrs. Goldstein rung the door bell, Harry could hear feet coming towards the door. They weren't big, booming footsteps like Uncle Vernon, but just normal ones like Mrs. Goldstein's. That's didn't help his nervousness though, he was still scared.

The door opened to reveal a brown haired man with warm brown eyes.

"Hello Stacy!" The man greeted happily, "This must be Harry." He crouched down to Harry's level and smiled at him.

"Hello, Little Man." The man said, "My name is Ryan." Harry didn't look him in the eyes but took a step closer to Mrs. Goldstein. "Would you like to come in?" Harry didn't say anything.

"Come along, Harry." Mrs. Goldstein said, taking Harry's hand. Harry was so worried about Ryan getting him that he hadn't even realized that Mrs. Goldstein had taken his hand and was leading him into the house.

The room they entered first was the kitchen room. Harry looked around with wide eyes at his surroundings; it didn't have much in it, but it was so much nicer than Mike and Vivian's house. There was a large wooden table in the middle of the room with six chairs; two on each side, and one on each end. There was a stove, a refrigerator, a sink, and a microwave, all of them so clean they sparkled.

That was one thing Harry noticed first, the way everything sparkled, floors and walls included. When living at the Dursley's, he was expected to keep their house much the same way, or else face the consequences. With this house just as clean, Harry wondered if he would be expected to do the same with the Atkinsons.

The next thing he knew was he was being led through the door into a living room, which was just as clean as the kitchen. The carpet was a light, sandy colour and the walls were light blue, so light that it almost looked white. There was navy blue couch and two matching armchairs. There was a telly on the opposite wall of the couch, and one of the arm chairs was next to the fire place. The other armchair was next to a nice looking coffee table with a lamp on it.

"This, as you can see, is our living room." Ryan said cheerfully. "I don't know where Eleanor has gotten to, she was just here a moment ago. Why don't you take a seat and I'll go find her."

Mrs. Goldstein, still holding Harry's hand, led him over to the couch and sat him down. She took the spot next to him, causing him to fidget and scoot away uncomfortably. As soon as Ryan and Eleanor walked into the room though, Harry found himself scooting closer to Mrs. Goldstein again. He was as close as he could get without touching, he kept his eyes to the floor.

"Hello, Harry!" Eleanor said, sitting on the other side of Harry. "I'm Eleanor. Looks like we'll be seeing quite a bit of each other now." Harry turned away and pushed himself into Mrs. Goldstein's side, who looked down in slight shock as he hadn't let her touch him anymore than holding his hand, and that had only happened that same day.

"It's alright Harry," Mrs. Goldstein said, draping her arm around his shoulders. "I've placed many children in their care, they're good people. I've told them about your magic and they've accepted it, they won't hurt you." Harry started crying silently, his breathing turned into quiet gasped as he couldn't bring enough air into his lungs. Mrs. Goldstein looked up at Ryan and Eleanor, who looked concerned.

"May we have a couple of minutes alone please?" She asked.

"Of course!" Eleanor replied immediately. "We'll just be in the kitchen." She took Ryan's arm and dragged him to the kitchen.

"Harry?" Mrs. Goldstein asked gently, turning Harry's face towards her. Harry flinched slightly and felt like moving away, but knew that it wouldn't be good if he did, so he stayed. "Can you take a deep breath for me? Come one…in…out…Good boy. Now, can you tell me what's wrong? I can't help you if I don't know." Harry continued to try to control his breathing as he thought. He was so confused. He didn't think he trusted her, but he really wanted to. Should he tell her his thoughts? The worst she could do is yell and hit him, right? He could handle it, he had before. And maybe she would actually listen. Maybe she would take him away forever, and not let anybody hurt him. It may have been wishful thinking, but Harry thought it worth a try.

"Please Harry…" Mrs. Goldstein pleaded. Harry chanced a look into her eyes.

"V-Vivi'n… Vivi'n huwt Hawwy." Harry whispered. "an' Mike."

"Oh Harry, I know they hurt you. I am very sorry." Mrs. Goldstein said softly. "I never meant to leave you in a family that would hurt you."

"No weave Hawwy…" Harry said, tears falling down his pale cheeks. "Huwt Hawwy! Wyan an' El'nor!"

"I promise they won't hurt you, Harry." Mrs. Goldstein said. "I know them personally, they are very good people, I promise." Harry looked away feeling defeated, he hadn't made her see.

"Are you alright now, Harry?" Mrs. Goldstein asked. She reached forward and wiped the tears from his face. He wasn't alright, but he nodded anyway. "I'll come check up on you in a few day, if you'd like?" Harry nodded, that did make him feel a little better; at least it wasn't a whole week this time.

"Alright then, let's go see what Ryan and Eleanor are up to." Mrs. Goldstein said, taking Harry's hand. She gently pulled him off the couch and led him to the kitchen where Ryan and Eleanor were sitting at the table talking quietly. Ryan stood up when they entered the room and looked at Harry with concern on his face, Eleanor stood up right after him.

"All right there, Little Man?" Ryan questioned. Harry nodded and pulled the bear he was still holding up to his chest.

"Would you guys like something to drink?" Eleanor asked.

"I would love to, but I actually have to be somewhere soon." Mrs. Goldstein said, looking apologetic. "I'm sure Harry would love some though." Harry turned to her sadly, he didn't want her to go so soon.

"I'll come and visit you in a few days, I promise." She said, kneeling down to his level. Thoughts rushed through Harry's mind, and without even really thinking about it, he reached over and wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her. She must have been shocked at first because she didn't respond right away, Harry almost pulled away fearfully, thinking that he had overstepped his boundaries, but she quickly returned the hug.

"Alright Harry, I'll see you in a few days." She said standing, "Be good." Then she was gone, and Harry felt scared.

"Alright Little Man, what would you like to drink?" Ryan asked cheerfully and pulled open the refrigerator. "Is milk alright?" Harry shrugged, would they actually allow him to have it? Or would they trick him and take it away right before he took a drink?

"Come here, sweetie." Eleanor said and pulled out one of the chair. Harry cautiously stepped forward and sat down at the chair. "I'll get you a couple of cookies to go with your milk, would you like that? They're chocolate chip." Harry shrugged, in truth he had never had a chocolate chip cookie before, or any cookie for that matter. He'd baked them for Dudley a couple of times, but Dudley had always eaten them all in one go. There were never any extra's for Harry.

The next thing he knew there was a glass of milk and two cookies in front of him. Eleanor and Ryan were sitting on either side of him with their own milk and cookies, which Harry thought a big weird. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't ever sit with Dudley when he ate cookies, they were usually watching the telly or something.

Harry hesitantly picked up one of his cookies and took a small bite, only after realizing that he wasn't going to get slapped for it.

"You know how I like to eat my cookies?" Eleanor asked. Harry shook his head. "I like to take my cookie, like this, and dunk it into my milk, like so." Harry watched as Eleanor picked up one of her own cookies and dunked it into the milk, then took a bite. Harry caught himself wondering if it was any good. What difference would the milk do to the taste of the cookie?

"Would you like to try it?" At Harry's careful nod she said, "Well go on then, just be careful you don't spill or drip all over the table. It sometimes helps if you take your cookie and scrape it against the side of your cup, like so, so get all the extra milk off." Harry frowned in concentration as he dipped his cookie into milk, then carefully scrapped the end off and took a bite. The taste wasn't so much different, but for some reason Harry really liked it. Maybe it was because the milk made the cookie less hard? He didn't know.

For the rest of the time Ryan and Eleanor ate their cookies and joked around with each other, they were laughing and smiling; for some reason it made Harry feel a little warm inside. Was this what it was like to have a family? Harry quickly squashed down happy thoughts about family though, he knew that he didn't have a family. Nor would he ever have one.

After they were all finished Ryan and Eleanor took Harry to his room to unpack his stuff into his drawers and everything. Harry instantly loved his room, though he didn't show it too much. The walls were a soft green, Harry's favorite colour, and the carpet was more of an emerald green. There was bed pushed up against the right side wall, with a forest green quilt and pillow on it, next to it was table that had a lamp on it. On the wall across from the door was a window and a dresser, then on the left wall was the closet. Harry felt guilt as he knew he didn't deserve such a room.

"Well? Do you like it?" Eleanor asked. Harry nodded and took a step forward, then looked up at their faces for confirmation. "Go on, let's put your stuff away." Eleanor walked in, Harry's backpack in hand, Ryan was holding the bag with his toys in it.

"Ryan, you can put Harry's toys in the closet while we put his clothes away." Eleanor said, already removing some of the clothes. Harry came forward and stood next to her, then frowned when he realized that she was doing it wrong. The shirt she had just placed in was on top of a pair of his jeans, not only that but it wasn't straight. Harry was glad that Aunt Petunia wasn't there to see, they both probably would have gotten into trouble.

Harry stuck out his hand to stop her from putting another shirt in. She looked up at him, startled, then watched as he reached in and took out the clothes that she had just put in. He pulled out the jeans and folded them neatly and set them back in, then he moved onto another pair, and did the same thing. When he came to the shirt, he folded it perfectly and then put it into it's own pile, next to the jeans. Eleanor looked at Harry sadly but let him continue, after all, there was no crime in wanting your clothes to be straight.

When the clothes were all packed the three went into the living room to watch the telly. Eleanor had said that the first few days would be pretty laid back, and then when she felt he was ready they would take him to the park. Harry was ok with just watching telly, he really hadn't had much of it in his short life, and he found it interesting.

The cartoon they had on was about a black cat and a yellow bird. The cat kept trying to get the bird, Harry figured to eat, but the bird kept escaping. Ryan was on one side of Harry, and Eleanor was on the other side, both were laughing and joking around like it was what they did every day. They sat on that couch for quite a while before Eleanor got up to fix supper, leaving Ryan and Harry alone on the couch. Ryan continued to laugh and joke with Harry, even making him smile a couple times. Only a small smile, but a smile none the less.

Supper that night was fried chicken, rice, and green beans. Eleanor hadn't put a whole lot on Harry's plate, but he was still unable to finish it all. He made sure to eat all of his green beans and chicken because that is what Aunt Petunia always made Dudley finish(Something about growing big and strong, or some such), but he couldn't finish all the rice.

Eleanor and Ryan didn't seem to mind though, and they tried to give him chocolate cake for dessert. He could only stomach one bite before he felt like he was going to be sick, so he pushed it away and shook his head. They understood and took the plate away, then told him that it was time for a bath.

Harry's blood froze when he heard that, it was his first bath with them, and he wondered how it would be with them. Mrs. Goldstein and Mike hadn't burned him, or used really cold water, but what if the Atkinsons did? They had been wonderful to Harry so far, but what if it suddenly changed?

After all, Aunt Petunia had been really horrible to Harry then just over night, she changed and acted like she loved him. Then after a week she changed again, and abandoned him.

Harry followed Eleanor to the bathroom where she proceeded to fill the tub. Harry held his head high, he would take it without making a sound. He would make this family like him, if taking the pain is what it took, then he'd do it.

When he got into the water, however, the water was warm and it sent goose pimple up his arms pleasantly. The gasp he mad when the water touched his skin was audible and Eleanor looked concerned.

"Is it too hot?" She asked. Harry shook his head and smiled. "You're alright then?" Harry nodded his head and swished his hand in the water, making it ripple against the side. "Alright then, can you bathe yourself?" Again, Harry nodded. Eleanor stood up and left, then came back a few minutes later carrying his pajamas. The pajamas were blue and had little dogs all over the pants, and a big one in the middle of the shirt. Then Eleanor told Harry to meet her in his room when he was finished, she then left him to himself.

Harry quickly washed himself and got out. Putting his clothes on took a bit more time than usual. For some reason he originally put his shirt on inside out. So he had to take it off and do it again, he ended up putting it on backwards the second time, and finally got it right the third time. After his clothes were one he turned to hang up the towels, then quickly made his way to his room, where he found Eleanor sitting on his bed.

"I thought I could read you a bedtime story, if you'd like." She said. Harry nodded, he liked bedtime stories, Mike read them to him before he got mad at Harry.

"Alright, get into bed and I'll get one." She said, getting up from the bed. Harry quickly crawled up and into the blankets, snuggling against the warm softness. Eleanor came back seconds later and took the spot next to him, then began reading.

Harry hadn't even really listened to the story, if asked he wouldn't have been able to tell you any of what it was about. Instead, he concentrated on the sound of Eleanor's voice and tried to figure out what the feelings that were raging in him were. He didn't understand…He had only met them that day, but there was something different about Ryan and Eleanor, he couldn't help but like them. Somehow he knew that Eleanor wouldn't hurt him, and was pretty sure Ryan wouldn't, but he couldn't be sure. While he liked Mrs. Goldstein, he didn't trust her like he did Eleanor. Harry thought that was weird, he'd only known them for part of a day, while he'd known Mrs. Goldstein for a lot longer.

Suddenly a big yawn forced itself from Harry and he felt his eyes drop, he was a sleep within seconds, but he was sure that he felt lips touch his forehead and a caring sounding 'goodnight' before he was completely asleep.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When Stacy first called him, Ryan was ecstatic. Rarely did she ever call except for when she had a little girl that needed to be taken care of. But then Stacy said that it was a boy and Ryan almost turned her down, after all they'd never taken care of boy before; Ryan had heard that they were so much harder to take care of then girls. After Stacy had explained Harry's story and everything that had happened, he couldn't say no, now could he? The poor boy had been through a horrible ordeal. Even after mentioning something about magic, he was suspicious at first, but then accepted; it didn't matter what the boy was like, he needed help and they could provide it.

When Stacy showed up on his doorstep with Harry, he took one look at the child and knew that he had made the right decision. The child looked so…frightened and scared, but was a very beautiful boy. The child had hair that was jet black that looked softer than silk, and his bright green eyes were enough to make him melt. He was rather small and skinny, looking to be only three, maybe four, but Ryan made a vow to help the child grow for as long as he was in their care.

Ryan Atkinson had never been around little boys, so he had no idea how his body and mind would react and betray him. He had no idea how he would hurt Harry, not being able to control his impulsive actions. He would soon learn that raising little girls was different than raising little boys, but he would realize too late; the damage would already have been done.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A couple of more days later Harry got up and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and relieve himself, and then go into the kitchen for breakfast, like the days before. This day was different; however, as instead of eggs and bacon, there was a pile of neatly wrapped presents on the table. There was a banner on the wall that said something; Harry wasn't sure what since he couldn't read.

Eleanor and Ryan were standing next to the table smiling, and Harry looked at them in confusion. Who were the presents for? And what did the banner say?

"Happy birthday, Harry." Ryan said gently. Harry looked even more confused, he didn't have a birthday. Only good boys had birthdays, and he wasn't a good boy.

"Today I thought we could eat a little breakfast and open your presents, then we could go to the zoo. Have you ever been there?" Eleanor asked. Harry shook his head, he had heard of it mentioned on the telly when he was listening through the door a couple of times, but had never been to one himself. He knew that they had animals, but he didn't know what kinds or anything else.

"I'm sure you'll like it, Little Man." Ryan said, gently running his fingers through Harry's hair a few times, then froze and snatched his hand back as if he'd been burnt. Eleanor hadn't noticed, but Harry had and he felt sad. Of course nobody would want to touch a Freak like him. "They have all kinds of animals. They have monkeys, bears, lions, tigers, penguins…everything you could think of." Harry did think that was pretty cool, and a small smile lit his face.

"Now, shall we have some breakfast?" Eleanor asked. She turned to the fridge and got out stuff to make French toast and bacon, Harry liked French toast. He'd had it a couple of times with Mrs. Goldstein before and loved it.

After breakfast was over they started handing him presents. Harry didn't really know what to do with them, as he'd never had a birthday before. He had a thought that maybe they'd let him touch it, but snatch it away before he could open it. He then felt ashamed as he had a feeling deep down that they wouldn't do that, or…he hoped anyway.

After a bit of prodding, Harry finally opened his gifts. He was immensely happy, he could have gotten old socks and still been happy, but he didn't get old socks. He got a couple of new outfits that were brand new, a couple of books, some stuffed animals, and a couple of other miscellaneous stuff. Harry was happy with his first ever birthday.

When it was all done Harry hopped off his chair and hugged Eleanor, and then Ryan. When he went to Ryan he wrapped his arms around the kneeling man's neck, Ryan gave a small, almost inaudible groan and pulled away, his face was flushed. Then they helped him put all his gifts away in his room and dressed him in one of his new outfits.

Shortly after that, they left to go to the zoo. Harry was so excited that he couldn't get the grin off his face, no matter what he did. He even tried to think of Uncle Vernon, but as he was doing that they pulled into the parking lot, and all memories about Uncle Vernon quickly vanished from his mind.

The zoo was absolutely wonderful, even if it did make his feet hurt from walking so much; he didn't mind. First they went to see some of the animals. Harry liked all of them; the wolves, the bears, the giraffes, and otters were all great. Then they took a break for lunch.

Eleanor told Ryan to take Harry and find a spot while she went and got food. So Ryan picked Harry up, who didn't mind so much anymore, and they went looking for a table. They found one that had a family at it, but there was still room for three.

"May we sit here?" Ryan asked politely. They nodded and continued to eat so they sat down. Instead of putting Harry down next to him, Ryan just plunked him down on his lap. Harry found that he didn't mind much, over the past couple of day he learned that he likes hugs and cuddles.

Ryan had his arms wrapped around Harry's small body and tucked his head under Ryan's chin. They sat like that for awhile, but then suddenly Ryan shifted, groaned softly, then put Harry on the bench next to him. Harry was a little disappointed in the loss of contact, but it didn't last long because Eleanor came back with corndogs and French fries.

After lunch they finished up looking at all the animals and went home. Harry really liked the zoo, but he was exhausted. He'd never had such a busy day before and all he wanted to do was sleep. When they got home they had a quick supper and then they got Harry ready for a shower.

When they turned the water on, it just sputtered a bit and stopped, making Ryan curse under his breath. Then he got up and left the room, Harry listened closely.

"Eleanor, the water is shut off again." Ryan said, sounding annoyed.

"Again?" Huffed Eleanor, "They already shut it off earlier this month, I wonder why."

"I don't know, I will call the company and see what's going on." Ryan sighed. "We should call the neighbors and see if theirs is shut off as well, Harry really needs a bath."

"I know, why don't you put him to bed and I'll make the calls." Eleanor suggested.

The next thing Harry knew Ryan was back in the room. He took Harry's hand and led him to his room, then took off Harry's shirt.

"We won't be having a shower tonight." Ryan said, now taking off Harry's jeans. He paused when they were off and Harry noticed that Ryan was looking at his 'thing'. Embarrassed, Harry covered it with his hand, bringing Ryan into reality. "The water is shut off." He continued as if nothing happened. "So we'll see if we can use the neighbor's water tomorrow."

Ryan quickly clothed Harry and put him to bed, kissing his forehead.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ryan didn't know what was wrong with him all of a sudden. It was Harry's birthday and they took him to the zoo, which wasn't a problem, the child loved it, but the problem was in his nether regions. All day, seemingly out of nowhere, he would start getting hard. He didn't understand it at all because it was only around Harry.

But he wasn't a pedophile, he wasn't attracted to Harry . He thought maybe it was because he hadn't gotten laid in a long time, it would make sense…

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The next day Harry got up and went to the kitchen for breakfast. Eleanor and Ryan were already waiting for him so he sat down in his chair and began eating.

"The neighbors said that we could use their shower today." Eleanor informed Harry. Harry nodded and took another bite of his toast. "You two will shower together, to save time."

"What? We can't shower together!" Ryan cried in horror.

"Why not?" Eleanor asked in surprise.

"It's not right!" Ryan exclaimed.

"You guys will be wearing shorts, so it's not like he'll see you, Ryan." Eleanor said rolling her eyes.

"Now, is everyone finished?" At Ryan and Harry's nod she stood and started putting the dishes in the sink. "Alright, then both of you go get a set of clean clothes and lets go." Harry ran and did as he was told, not wanting to get into trouble or anything.

Standing in the neighbor's bathroom, Ryan looked more nervous about taking a shower with Harry than Harry did. They both had stripped down to their shorts and Ryan was turning the water on. When it was on he motioned for Harry to get in, before getting in himself.

"Let's try to make this quick, eh?" He chuckled nervously. Harry nodded and went to grab the soap. He lathered his hands and started to scrub his body when Ryan groaned and put his hand on the wall to support himself. Harry looked up and the first thing he noticed was that there was something in Ryan's shorts, and that he looked to be in pain. His eyes were closed and his face was flushed, his hand was pressing against whatever was in his shorts.

"You ok?" Harry whispered. Ryan's eyes flew open and looked at Harry.

"Huwt?" Harry asked, carefully placing his hand on whatever was in Ryan's pants, making him jump and moan, Harry snatched his hand away, thinking that he had hurt Ryan. Ryan sagged down to the floor of the shower and panted, then looked at Harry.

"Sick?" Harry tired again. Ryan nodded.

"Poison." Ryan said quietly. "I have poison."

Harry pointed to his pants again, looking confused. Ryan nodded.

"I have to get it out." He said quietly, "would you like to help?" Harry nodded carefully.

"Alright, I have to take my short off so we can better get to the poison." Ryan said, then swiftly pulled them down. Harry's eyes widened. It was obvious to Harry that it was filled with poison, with how swollen and angry red it was; he looked into Ryan's face in concern.

"To get the poison out, we have to rub it." Ryan said, then took Harry's hand and brought it to it. Harry wanted to take his hand back, he didn't like touching it. He'd never touched one before, except for his own, so it was weird.

"Now squeeze a little, you can use your other hand too." Ryan instructed with a moan. Then he put his hands over Harry's and started sliding them up and down. Eventually Ryan let go of Harry and told him to keep going. He was panting, and moaning, and sweating so much Harry was scared that Ryan would die before they got the poison out, so he kept at it.

After what seemed like forever, the poison finally came out, splattering on Harry's stomach and some on his thighs. Harry looked at Ryan worriedly, was he going to get the poison too now that it had touched him?

Harry felt tears prickle his eyes, but he didn't understand why he was crying. Maybe it was from relief that Ryan would be alright, maybe it was fear because the poison had touched Harry, or maybe it was from shame; he didn't like touching it, but it had poison it in, so what was Harry supposed to do? Let Ryan die?

"Shhh… It's alright Harry," Ryan said, pulling Harry onto his lap and putting his arms around him. "I love you, you know that?" Harry felt a sob break loose, nobody had every loved him before! Ryan waited until Harry stopped crying and stood them up.

"Now," He said looking into Harry's eyes seriously. "We cannot tell anybody about my poison, alright?" Harry looked confused. "I will get put into jail for having the poison."

Harry's eyes widened in fear, he'd never seen or been to jail, but he heard it was absolutely horrible there. Apparently, from what he heard from his aunt and uncle, they only fed the prisoners bread and water until they died of old age. He didn't want Ryan to go there, so he vowed never to tell anybody.

After that they quickly finished washing and got out.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ryan was absolutely horrified. His wife had just made him shower with Harry, they had shorts on, but still! What if…what if he got hard around Harry while they were showering? It seemed to be happening quite a bit, but he kept telling himself that he was _not _a pedophile. His hormones were just running rampage, that had to be it!

As they were showing he happened to glance over at Harry and couldn't help but stare. The way the soap was running down and dripping off of Harry's pale body was too much, and he couldn't help his body reactions. When he groaned and held on to the wall, Harry had actually spoken to him. Harry had been worried and after looking into Harry's beautiful green eyes, he seemed to lose himself.

Ryan hadn't even realized what had happened until the 'poison' was coming out, then he was completely mortified. He couldn't believe it, he had sexually assaulted the six year old, he was sick and disgusting; he was absolutely appalled.

After telling Harry not to tell anybody, he made a silent vow never to touch, or expose himself to Harry ever again.

Over the course of August, Ryan broke his vow time and time again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

One night Harry jolted awake from a bad dream. The dream was about Uncle Vernon, he'd found where Harry was living and dragged him away, then shoved him in the cupboard for days after beating him senseless.

Harry shivered and then realized that he really had to use the bathroom, so he quickly hopped off his bed and practically ran to the bathroom. When he was finished he was about to put his pants back up when he noticed something strange, something that made his blood run cold. He was stiff down there like Ryan, he had the poison. He was going to die, he just knew it.

Fear gripped Harry's insides and he stared at it. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to touch it like he did with Ryan's? But if he was able to get the poison out by himself, then why did Ryan always ask for help? Harry popped his head out of the door and looked down the hallway, it was still the middle of the night, would Ryan get mad if Harry woke him? Harry didn't want to die though, so he pulled his bottoms back on and ventured down the hall.

Quietly he pushed the bedroom door open and went to Ryan's side of the bed. He looked at the snoring figure in the bed and took a deep breath, then gently shook the man. Ryan sat up immediately and looked at Harry, who had tears in his eyes.

"Harry, what wrong?" He asked worriedly. Harry carefully took Ryan's hand and led him back into the bathroom and swiftly pulled his pants down. Ryan stood there looking at it for a minute with a confused look on his face, then realization hit him.

"Poison?" He asked gently. Harry nodded, fear in his eyes.

"Would you like me to get rid of it for you?" Ryan asked, looking a bit nervous. Harry nodded. "Alright, take off your clothes then." Harry quickly pulled his pants off along with his shirt, then looked at Ryan with wide, worried green eyes.

"Sit on the toilette." Ryan whispered, putting the lid down for Harry. He turned and sat down on the toilette like Ryan had told him to and waited.

"This is a quicker way to get rid of the poison." Ryan said, then leaned down and engulfed the whole thing in his mouth. Harry gasped in surprise and tried to wiggle away, it felt really weird, and kind of…good? Harry wasn't sure if he liked it and tried to back up, but Ryan held Harry still by his hips.

It didn't take very long and Harry felt a strange tightening sensation, he shuttered. Harry tried to regain his breath, he didn't understand. What had happened? His body was all tingly and he didn't hurt like he's imagined. He didn't like it at all, it wasn't right.

"There, the poison is gone now." Ryan said, then pulled Harry onto his lap and hugged him. Harry started crying again, for reasons he still didn't understand. It seemed he always cried after poison incidents, and he never knew why. He just felt so…_ashamed._

After a minute Ryan whispered, "I love you Harry, you know I never meant to hurt you, right?" Harry was confused, when had Ryan hurt him? He nodded anyway and looked up. Ryan looked really worried and in turn, Harry started worrying. Was something wrong? Was the poison going to kill him after all? Were they too late?

"No matter what, just remember that I loved you, alright?" Harry nodded and shifted, then put his arms around Ryan's neck. "Good, stay here and get dressed, I'll be right back." He set Harry down on the toilette again, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Harry sat there for quite a while thinking, he hadn't even put his clothes on when he suddenly heard enraged screams coming from Eleanor. Somehow Harry knew it was because of him. He felt tears sting his eyes again, he knew he would get into trouble for having poison! But he hadn't meant to! He heard footsteps coming closer to the door and he suddenly wished that he was anywhere but in the house. He didn't want to be there for the beating. A park that the Atkinson's had taken him to came to mind and he suddenly had a very strange sensation. It was like being pushed through a tube of toothpaste, and then he hit the hard floor, but he was no longer in the house, he was outside; in the park to be exact.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When Ryan had finished getting the poison out of Harry, or so Harry thought, he held him and felt tears fill his own eyes. He couldn't believe that he'd hurt this little boy so much when he promised himself that he wouldn't. He couldn't keep doing it and he knew that he needed help, he wouldn't be able to do it himself. So after he left the bathroom he went to go wake his wife.

"Ryan? What's wrong?" Eleanor asked groggily as she got out of bed.

"I touched Harry." Ryan said, fear in his voice.

"What do you mean, you touched Harry?" Eleanor asked, not quite getting it.

"I need help Eleanor, I've been touching Harry and Harry's been touching me." Ryan said, the tears from earlier slipping down his cheeks. "In an inappropriate way."

"You what?" Eleanor roared suddenly, "How could you do such a thing, that's disgusting!" She was fully awake and very angry. "How many of our other children have you molested? You son of a bitch!"

"None." Ryan whispered, completely ashamed of himself. "They were all girls, they didn't interest me. Eleanor, help me please. I don't want to hurt him anymore!"

"You sicken me!" Eleanor spat. "I don't know if I can still be married to a pedophile. Where's Harry?"

"In the bathroom." Ryan said, sounding defeated. Eleanor stalked down the hall to the bathroom and carefully opened the door, expecting a scared little boy to be in there, instead there were only his clothes.

"Ryan! He isn't here!" Eleanor called in fear, momentarily forgetting to be furious at Ryan. He ran up behind her and looked into the room.

"That's not possible; I left him on the toilette and told him to get dressed." Ryan said.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry looked around worriedly; he was in the middle of the park all by himself and didn't know how to get home. Not that he wanted to get home, he knew that they would beat him and then get rid of him like Vivian and Mike did. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, it was starting to get cold out and he was still naked.

With one last look around he started walking away. He watched for cars and whenever one would come up he would dodge into the brush so they wouldn't see his nakedness. He wasn't sure how long he had been walking, but the sun started coming up and he was absolutely exhausted. Not knowing what else to do, he walked up to somebody's door step and curled up, he instantly fell into a fitful sleep.


	9. Severus Snape

**Finding Home Chapter Nine: **Severus Snape

It was about six o'clock in the morning when a loud buzzing sounded in Severus Snape's bedroom, alerting him that somebody, witch or wizard, was standing at his door. The snoring stopped abruptly and a growl came from under a mound of blankets.

Normally Severus would already be up at six in the morning, but contrary to popular belief, he did like to have the occasional lie in. Lately he hadn't been getting much sleep and it was all the Potter brat's fault. Oh yes, he had never even met the brat and he was causing trouble.

Sometime between the time period of the middle of May and the middle of June the horror had disappeared. Severus remembered it like it was yesterday.

_~Flashback~_

_Severus was standing in his personal potions lab brewing a very experimental potion. He'd been working on it for over three years, trying to prefect it. The potion that was being brewed in a solid gold cauldron was a potion that would hopefully cure blindness. Currently, even in the magical world, there was no cure; there were experimental surgeries that only worked about one in one hundred times. It was a potion that could change people's lives, if it ever succeeded__._

_Suddenly, just as Severus was adding a couple of newt eyes, someone burst into the room rather loudly, startling him into dropping one too many newt eyes in the potion. The potion, coloured red, suddenly turned into a nasty green colour and started hissing angrily, spitting glops of potion everywhere. Severus felt rage build up inside of him. The potion that he'd been working on for over three years takes two weeks to brew, almost constantly. He was exhausted and it was supposed to be the last day of it, and now he had to start all over. Severus turned around, fire in his eyes and glared at the old man in purple robes._

_ "Severus, my boy, there's bee__n an emergency!" Albus squawked, looking rather flustered. Severus was unimpressed, almost nothing would be worth sabotaging his potions for._

_ "It had better be importa__nt, Albus, I am a very busy man and since you've made me destroy my potion, I need to get started again right away.__" Severus growled dangerously, banishing the ruined mess._

_"It is, it's about Harry Potter." Albus said looking lost. If anything that seemed to fuel Severus' rage._

_ "Harry Potter? What about the brat? Has he gotten in trouble already? He's only what, six?" Severus asked in disbelief. "What trouble could a six year old possibly get into?"_

_ "He's gone missing and I need your help in tracking him down." Albus said. "Nobody has seen him in a couple of weeks and the wards have alerted me that he isn't there anymore. It could be possible that a death eater has gotten ahold of him."_

_ "__Death eater? Weren't the wards supposed to protect him from that?" Severus asked in disbelief._

_ "Yes, ultimately," Albus said, "But if Harry was say, at the park, they could have gotten him them."_

_ "So basically the only way the brat is safe is if he is in the house at all times?" Severus asked, again in disbelief._

_ "No, it stretched to the yard as well." Albus said, as if that was any better. _

_ "Albus, you cannot keep a child locked in a house and their yard at all times, even I know that!" Severus exclaimed. "It sounds as if the Hogwarts's wards would have done better than that!"_

_ "Enough Severus, are you going to help me or not?" Albus asked, his blue eyes hard. Severus knew that by the sound of Albus' voice, that there was no getting out of it. It may have been worded as a suggestion, but it wasn't._

_~End Flashback~_

They'd been looking for the Potter brat every day since then, for weeks. It was the middle of August, and they'd started looking for him at the end of June, beginning of July; it was as if the child had fallen off the face of the earth. It was the strangest thing. No tracking spell could seem to track him for very long. If anything they only got the general direction of the boy, and eve that they weren't sure of, since they'd never actually found him.

Severus rolled over and growled again. He had hoped that if he ignored whoever was out there that they'd just leave. He didn't know who would be out there anyway, all the Hogwarts staff would use the floo, and most of the Death Eaters were in Azkaban, except Lucius, who also would use the floo.

Whoever it was, it was obvious that they weren't leaving so Severus heaved himself out of bed, grabbed his wand and transfigured his clothes into robes, then stomped down the hall to answer the door. When he swung the door open grumpily and didn't immediately see anybody he was going to be furious, but then a whimper on the ground caught his attention.

At first all he could do was stand there and stare at the naked child sleeping on his doorstep, but then he realized; the boy was very young and very _naked. _Where had the boy come from? And why in the world was he naked?

Severus was tempted to shut the door and forget about the child, but he knew he couldn't do that, no matter how much he didn't like children. Then he remembered something, his wards had gone off, meaning this boy was a wizard. But there weren't any wizarding families around where he lived, had someone just abandoned him? Severus grumbled unhappily as he knelt down to pick the child up, but when he touch him, the child's eyes flew open and he started backing away as if he was going to be hit. Even Severus didn't have the heart to snap at him, seeing the terror in the kid's eyes. Something obviously had happened, and whatever it was wasn't good.

"Come here, child." Severus said, in a surprisingly soft voice. Severus almost choked when he heard himself, he didn't even know his voice could go that soft. He made a mental note never to use it again after that day. The child stopped and looked at Severus with wide green eyes.

At seeing the boy's eyes, Severus felt his heart flutter, they were so familiar. But in his tired, sleep deprived mind, he couldn't seem to make the connection, try as he might.

"How did you get here?" Severus questioned gently, the poor boy was shaking so hard he was surprised the boy wasn't vibrating across the ground. The boy looked around quickly, then shrugged his shoulder.

"You don't know how you got here?" Severus wondered, his eyes narrowing. The boy shook his head and looked away, Severus thought he saw some tears and wanted to run away, he had no idea how to deal with a crying child! But he stayed put, because even the evil potions professor didn't have the heart to leave a child completely naked and scared, out in the world by itself.

"Where are your clothes then?" The child looked down at himself, then blushed and covered himself up with his hands. The boy then looked up like he wanted to say something, but couldn't.

"Can't you talk?" Severus asked in wonder. He'd never met a mute child before, it might not be so bad, at least he would be quiet. The boy looked away again, still blushing.

"Alright then, why don't you come in and I'll give you some clothes to wear for right now." He suggested, then stood up and held the door open wide. The child hesitated then carefully stood and entered the house, but only just. Severus had to nudge him in just so he could shut the door.

"Stay here, I'll find something for you to wear." Severus said, then disappeared down the hall. When he returned a couple of minutes later carrying a black shirt, the boy was standing in the exact same spot, Severus didn't think the boy had even looked around for his eyes were glued to the same spot on the wall.

"Here, put this on for now." Severus handed the boy the shirt, but didn't let go. He had suddenly noticed something, a shimmering; it was a glamour. Silently he pulled his wand out and took it down, then gasped. There were scars everywhere on the child's body. There were scars on his face, neck, arms, legs, stomach and back. But the ones on back seemed to be the worse. Most of them hadn't even healed all the way and were infected, they looked like they were caused by a belt.

"What happened to you, child?" Severus asked softly, turning the boy around and looked the boy in the eyes. The child quickly looked around and ignored Severus' question. Severus sighed, he was already getting annoyed but he refused to get mad and frighten the child even more.

"Alright, well come in so I can treat your injuries." He grumbled. The child looked up at him in surprise, like he expected him not to treat the wounds or something. How absurd! When Severus started walking away the boy cautiously started following.

"Sit down here and turn a bit so I can see your back." Severus said, then pulled out his wand to summon the cream he would need. The child obeyed, even if somewhat hesitant. Again, all Severus could do at first was stare, who would make such terrible wounds on a small child? Not even his own father made marks like that. Carefully he began to apply the cream, making the boy gasp.

"Does it hurt?" Severus asked, halting his movement. The child shook his head quickly, but Severus knew it was a lie. After all, how could you not hurt with such wounds? Severus mentally cursed himself for not thinking of it and summoned a sleeping potion.

"Can you swallow this for me?" The child eyed it with fear, but swallowed it anyway. The child soon fell asleep so Severus laid him down on his stomach, so he could continue putting the salve on. I didn't take very long and after he was finished he ran a diagnostic on him. There defiantly was evidence of abuse. A couple of bone had been broken and healed wrong, and then of course the scars.

Severus shook his head in disgust at whoever would do such a thing. He rolled the boy over and immediately froze, there was something there. He quickly spelled the shirt onto the boy, which hung down to his knees, and then looked at the forehead again. There, hidden behind a fringe of hair, was a lightning bolt scar; this child was Harry Potter.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry was confused and scared yet again, but the man didn't seem like a huge threat. Even when he pulled out a black stick, he hadn't hit Harry with it. The man had said some funny words and a jar came flying out of nowhere, it was strange!

But then the man wanted to put the cream on his back, but he didn't want it. He didn't want to turn his back on the stranger, Harry knew that you never turn your back on an adult, even if you trust them. It's way too easy for them to hurt you if you do, so Harry learned. But Harry didn't see any way out of it, the man looked stern and he knew to listen to stern adults.

When the man first started, it sent a shock of pain through his back and he was unable to stop the gasp. Then the man asked if he was hurt, him! The only people to ever care if he was hurting was Mrs. Goldstein, Ryan, an Eleanor, why did this stranger care?

The man then turned Harry around and told him to drink something, it looked awful and smelled awful, but he didn't want to disobey, he didn't know what punishments with this man consisted of, so he drank it. Harry almost spit it back out, it was so terrible, but he managed to keep it in and swallow it. Not long later harry started to feel really tired, he tried to keep his eyes open, but the more he tried, the harder it go. The next thing he knew he was asleep, dreaming of hugs and cuddles.

.. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Stacy groaned as the phone rang. She turned over and squinted at the clock, it was only midnight. Then remembering the incident with Mike and Vivian, she quickly dove for the phone.

"Hello?" She called into the phone. If they had hurt the little boy she didn't know what she'd do, the child would never trust anybody ever again.

"Stacy." The voice said. "Harry's gone."

"Gone? Eleanor?" Stacy asked confused. "What do you mean gone?" There was a long pause on the other line and when Eleanor started talking again, Stacy could tell she was crying.

"Ryan has been touching little Harry." Eleanor cried. "And he's been having Harry touch him."

"Sexually?" Stacy asked, already feeling sick.

"Yes." Eleanor said, still crying. "I didn't know! Stacy, I didn't know! And now Harry's gone and we don't know where he is!"

"Calm down." Stacy instructed, already putting her clothes on. "Where was the last place he was left?"

"Ryan left him in the bathroom after he…after he…and Harry's clothes are still in there," Eleanor said. "His clothes are there but he isn't. Wherever he is, he's naked. We checked the whole house and he isn't here. Do you think he could have used magic?"

"Maybe," Stacy said. "Listen, I'm getting ready right now, I'll be over in a couple of minutes."

After they hung up Stacy went into the bathroom and ran a brush quickly through her hair, she needed to find Harry. The poor boy was probably so lost and confused. With that thought in mind, she raced to her car, and then raced all the way to the Atkinson's.

When she got there the police were already there, and Ryan had been taken away. Eleanor was standing on the step talking to an officer, she was crying too hard to really get any words in though.

"Do you have a picture of the boy?" The officer asked just as Stacy had come up. Eleanor nodded and went to the house, then came back with a picture of Harry at a table filled with presents.

"This was taken on his birthday." Eleanor sniffed, handing the photo over. The man took it and put it into his file.

"We'll do everything we can to find him." The officer said, then walked back to his car.

"It's alright, Eleanor." Stacy said, wrapping her friend up in a hug, acting more calmly than she felt.

"I'm married to a pedophile, Stacy!" Eleanor cried, "And he hurt Harry! He said he hadn't ever touched our girls that way, but how do I believe him? How did I not know what was happening? Apparently it's been happening for weeks and I never knew!"

"It's alright now, Eleanor." Stacy said, leading Eleanor into the house. "Let's have some tea to calm our nerves and we'll discuss what has happened." In truth, Stacy wanted to cry. In a way she felt like Harry was her own son and whatever hurt him, hurt her as well. But she knew she had to be strong, he friend needed her and the police were out looking for Harry. Things would be alright.


	10. A New Home?

**Authors Note: **This chapter has references to sexual abuse, but nothing like it was in chapter eight. It's not graphic at all, and It's only mentioned, not actually written out, but please read and listen to my warning anyway.

**Finding Home Chapter Ten: **A New Home?

Harry bloody Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was sleeping in his living room, on his couch and Severus didn't know what to do. It was only about seven in the morning but he knew Albus would be awake, it was as if the old man never slept. He knew he should go tell Albus that he'd found the boy, they had been looking after all, but something inside of him made him stop. He didn't know what it was, but something told him that he shouldn't be telling, not right away anyway.

So Severus stood in his living room, staring at the Boy Who Lived thoughtfully. The boy was supposed to be living in Surrey, wasn't he? When he disappeared, had he run away? Had someone kidnaped him? Had Petunia dropped him off somewhere? He wouldn't put it past her, he knew what kind of person she was and he had even told Albus that. All the old man had said was, "Severus my boy, Harry has to stay there. There are blood protections there, it's for his protection and the Dursley's."

Severus scoffed, Petunia hated magic more than Severus hated children, and that was saying something. He wouldn't have been surprised to find out that Petunia had done this to the child, caused all the scars and everything.

Severus shook his head to clear it and went to the kitchen, he decided that he could at least make breakfast, the boy was sure to be hungry when he woke. He didn't know what Potter usually ate during breakfast, but he figured it would be safe to make eggs and bacon, it was a very common breakfast to eat. He just hoped the spoiled brat…no, that wasn't right, was it? Severus knew the boy had been staying with Petunia, and after seeing the injuries, he looked far from spoiled.

He finished making breakfast and put it under a stasis charm to keep it warm, then went to the living room to read. Severus sat down in his favorite chair across from the couch and picked up his novel. Contrary to popular believe, he did read other things besides potions journals and things related to learning.

Glancing up he looked at Potter he almost growled, now that he really looked, the boy looked exactly like James, only smaller and without glasses. He knew that Potter wasn't responsible for what his father had done, but that didn't stop the horrible memories from coming back.

With a snarl he opened his book and started reading, he decided that he really needed to calm down before he let his anger get the better of him. Several hours later he was startled by a sudden thump. He lowered his book and looked at the couch, Potter was crawling away from the couch like it had bitten him.

"What are you doing?" Severus asked in an unemotional voice. Potter froze and then slowly turned his head to look over. Severus put his book down and got up. Walking towards the boy, Severus noticed how he visibly shrunk away, as if expecting to be kicked. He knelt down to look the boy in the eyes and gasped slightly.

"Albus was right, you really do have your mother's eyes…" He murmured, mostly to himself but Potter's eyes widened, all fear forgotten.

"Hadn't you known?" Severus questioned. Surely he knew about his parents, right? Not even Petunia would keep something like that from him… Potter shook his head, eyes still wide. Severus was shocked, how could the boy not know?

"Well, come along, I bet you're hungry?" Potter visibly started shaking and shook his head no. Severus knew that was a lie, the child looked to be starving.

"None the less, you'll eat, even if it's just a little bit." Severus said, making the boy shake more.

"I won't hurt you, and especially not for eating," Severus frowned, then held out his hand. "Come along, you must be famished."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry was scared, the man had said that he wouldn't hurt Harry, but how was he supposed to believe that? All adults hurt him, Harry didn't know why this one should be any different. And he was a complete stranger, wasn't he not supposed to go into strangers homes? Nobody had ever told him, but he'd heard Aunt Petunia telling Dudley never to get into a strangers car, or go into their house.

The man was holding out his hand for Harry to take, but he was too afraid. What if the man yanked on his arm like Uncle Vernon used to do? Whenever that happened his arm would make a popping noise and it would hurt really bad, then Uncle Vernon would laugh and that was almost worse than the physical pain.

Finally Harry hesitantly took the man's hand. The hand clenched around his, but there wasn't any vicious yank or anything, the man gently pulled Harry up to his feet. He was then led into the dining room, where Harry saw breakfast on the table. Of course, it probably wasn't for him though. The man probably wanted Harry to sit there and watch him eat, then he would dismiss Harry to do some cleaning of something.

But then the man gently pushed Harry into the seat with the food, confusing him. Wasn't the man supposed to sit there? But then the man walked around the other side of the table and sat down across from Harry. Harry looked at him fearfully, but with a bit of curiosity as well.

"Well, go ahead and eat, Potter." The man said. At first Harry was confused, Potter? But then he realized that Potter was probably his last name, he did remember hearing it a couple of times. But then Harry noticed something, how did the man know who Harry was? How did the man know that Harry had his mum's eyes?

"Are you waiting for a written invitation? I said eat." The man snapped, startling Harry. Harry quickly picked up his fork in one hand, wrapped his other arm around the plate, and began eating.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Severus felt a small pang of guilt, he hadn't meant to startle Potter, but the brat was just sitting there staring out into space. Now he watched as the child at and frowned. By the way Potter had his arm around the plate, it was as if he thought Severus was going to take it from him, and by how fast Potter was eating, it was like the child was starving. That Severus could believe, wasn't the child supposed to be six? He didn't look six, he looked to be three, maybe four years old.

"Slow down, Potter." Severus said. When the boy didn't make any move to slow down he reached out and gently took the plate from Potter, only intending to get his attention. To his horror, Potter looked up and whimpered, tears forming in his big green eyes, making Severus feel horrible.

"I'm not taking the food from you, Potter. I just want you to slow down, you'll make yourself sick eating that fast." Potter still had his eyes on the plate though, and didn't look like he had heard him. "Potter!" Potter's head snapped up to look at him, the tears starting to fall down his face. Severus sighed and stood up, then he walked to Potter's side of the table and sat down next to him.

Severus pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the tears from Harry's face. "I'm not taking the food away from you for good, Potter." Severus said, "But you must slow down when eating, otherwise you'll make yourself sick. Do you understand?" Potter slowly nodded his head but looked unsure.

"Good, now I'm going to give you the food back and I really want you to slow down, alright?" Potter nodded again so Severus pulled the plate back. When Potter began eating again, Severus could tell the child was trying really hard to restrain himself, but he was still eating much too fast.

"Potter." Severus sighed irritated. Potter made no move to stop again so Severus extracted the plate. "What have I told you about slowing down?" Potter looked away sadly. Severus, sighing again in irritation, picked up the fork and stabbed a piece of egg.

"Potter, look up please." When Potter looked up, Severus brought the fork up to his mouth. "Open your mouth." At first Potter didn't move, but then Severus growled, making Potter immediately open his mouth. Severus almost sneered in disgust at himself as he pushed the fork into the child's mouth, he couldn't believe he was actually feeding him. Potter was old enough to feed himself, for Merlin's sake! But that didn't stop him from feeding Potter, if this was the only way to get the child to eat slowly, then it had to be done.

After a couple of more minutes he could tell the by look of distress on the boy's face that he was full, probably rather uncomfortably, but Potter hadn't said anything. Severus fed him a couple of more bites, hoping to get a reaction, but none came.

"Are you full?" Severus finally asked. Potter's eyes got wide and he shook his head. "You'd like more than?" Potter nodded, so against his better judgment, Severus continued to slowly feed the child. The more food Potter ate the more distressed he looked until suddenly, he leaned over and threw up all over the floor.

Severus quickly put the plate on the table and grabbed his wand. After banishing the mess he looked at Potter, who looked more terrified than he had seen him. Tears were forming in Potter's eyes and he was already starting to hyperventilate.

"It's alright, Potter." Severus said uncomfortably, "We all have accidents, I only wonder why you didn't tell me you were feeling ill?" If anything that made Potter cry harder, much to Severus' confusion. The words were supposed to make him feel better, not worse! Severus didn't know what to do, he didn't know how to comfort a crying child. He thought for a minute until he remembered an incident he had come across while walking down Diagon Alley one day. A child had fallen and was crying, so his mother was holding him, that had seemed to work.

Felling very uncomfortable, he reached forward and pulled Potter on to his lap. He pulled the small, quivering form to his body and hoped that would be enough. At first Potter tried to squirm away, but Severus hung on and the child eventually gave up and sagged against him.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Harry was so confused, the man seemed to really _want _Harry to eat the food, but Harry knew that it couldn't be true, it was all a tick, he just knew it! But then the man started getting angry at him for not eating, so he began to eat quickly, soon putting his arm around the plate to try to fend off any food thieves. He hadn't realized how hungry he was and he just could seem to stop.

When the plate was suddenly moved away from him, Harry, to his horror, had started crying. He tried his hardest to keep the tears in, but a whimper escaped instead, he was so dead! But then the man didn't yell at him or hit him, he had said that Harry was to eat slower, or he'd get sick. Harry didn't really understand, but he nodded anyway. Why would eating fast make him sick? It never had in the past...

Harry tried as hard as he could to eat slower, but he just couldn't do it. What if the man took the food away again and didn't give it back? Then the man stopped Harry and started feeding him. The man obviously wanted Harry to eat, to his confusion, and didn't want Harry to be sick. It was a bit strange being fed like that, but then he started feeling really full. He wanted to tell the man that he couldn't eat anymore, but he knew the man wanted him to finish so he didn't say anything. Not even when the man asked if he was full, he just shook his head and continued eating.

And then, to his horror he suddenly threw up all over the floor. The man was going to be so mad! Harry hadn't even really heard him when the man talked, but in his worry he just assumed that it was something bad and started crying harder. Then out of nowhere he was pulled onto the man's lap. At first Harry got scared, what was the man going to do? But then the man just pulled Harry against his body and just sat there, so Harry relaxed a little until he stopped crying.

"Alright now?" The man asked, Harry nodded. Harry really liked the hug he was getting, but he knew better than to ask for more. Harry was carefully set on the floor and the man stood up. "I think you need a bath, you're filthy." Harry looked away ashamed, he knew he was filthy, he could feel it.

"Alright, come on then." The man said and started walking away, not noticing Harry's sadness. Harry followed the man down the hallway until they came to the bathroom. The bathroom was rather small, but clean, even if it was a little run down like the rest of the house. Harry paused in the door way, unsure of what to do; he shifted from foot to foot nervously.

The sound of water filling the bathtub met Harry's ears and he frowned in confusion, the man hadn't even walked over to the bathtub, he had stood in front of Harry the whole time. Harry chanced a look and flinched away immediately when he saw the man holding a stick, but the stick never struck him and after a few minutes he looked back up; the man had put the stick away and was looking at Harry strangely.

"What's the matter, Potter?" The man asked. Harry looked at the man's hands to see if the stick was still there, but it wasn't. The man frowned again, then reached into his clothes and pulled it out again. Harry flinched back at the sight of it and took a step back, tripping over the rug and falling on his bum.

"Why are you afraid of my wand, Potter?" The man asked, reaching forward to pull Harry up. He looked at the man's stick and frowned, _wand? _He had no idea what a wand was, but he didn't think he liked it much; it looked too much like a beating stick. Harry didn't take his eyes off of it until it was back in the man's clothes, then he just watched the man carefully.

"Alright, Potter, take your clothes off so you can take a bath." The man said, standing against the wall with his arms crossed. Harry looked up and flushed with embarrassment. He didn't want to undress in front of a stranger. The man must have noticed Harry's hesitation because he huffed and said, "Mr. Potter, you do not have anything that I haven't seen before." But it didn't seem to make Harry feel any better, in truth he didn't even want to look at himself _down there, _in fear that _it_ might have poison in it. He didn't want the poison, he didn't like the process of getting it out, and he didn't like almost dying.

"Would you feel better if I turned around until you got into the tub?" The man sighed. Harry nodded and waited for the man to turn around before quickly pulling his clothes off. Once they were off he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, then opened them and looked down. Almost sighing in relieve he realized he didn't have any poison, and with one more look to make sure the man wasn't looking, he got into the tub and sat down.

Suddenly Harry realized something; the warm water didn't make his back sting. In fact, nothing really hurt, not like it did before. His body was a bit sore in places, but he wasn't in excruciating pain anymore and he gasped when he realized he could actually move his limbs without having to bit his lip. The man turned around at hearing the gasp and looked at Harry for any signs of distress.

"What's wrong?" He asked when he could find nothing wrong. Harry's eyes widened in fright, was the man going to hurt him if he found out that Harry was fine? He probably would, so Harry just shrugged like he had no idea what the man was saying. The man huffed in irritation and walked across the bathroom and pulled a flannel out of the cupboard, then handed it to Harry. "I take it you know how to clean yourself?" Harry nodded and stared at the flannel, he knew how to clean himself, but he always just scrubbed with his hand. He didn't quite understand how exactly he was supposed to use the flannel. Was he supposed to put the soap on his body and then scrub his skin?

The man must have noticed the confusion because he took the flannel, reached over for the soap, and then lathered it up. Handing it back to Harry he asked, "Are you sure you don't need help?" Harry ignored the man and started scrubbing his arms and chest, glad that he actually could without wanting to cry in pain.

"Well, I'll just go and get you something to put on then." The man said, "I shall return momentarily." Then he was gone. Did he mean that he wanted Harry to be finished by the time he got back? How long was momentarily? Harry wasn't sure so he washed himself really fast and had himself rinsed and standing on the bath mat by the time the man came back a couple of minutes later.

"Finished already?" The man asked, picking a towel off of the rack. Harry nodded, but kept his eyes on the ground. "That was quick, did you wash behind your ears?" Harry nodded again, he always washed every inch of his body, he hated being dirty. The man stepped forward, taking Harry by surprise and caused him to step back. Harry stilled immediately and waited for a blow, but it didn't come. When the man wrapped the towel around Harry, he wasn't expecting something soft, he was expecting a slap. He gasped, and the man stopped moving.

"Are you hurt?" The man questioned and Harry shook his head. "You're sure?" Harry nodded. "Then why did you gasp as if you were?" At this Harry shrugged, how was he supposed to answer if he knew he wasn't supposed to really talk? He couldn't just shake or nod his head to that. The man sighed and finished wrapping Harry in the towel, then he turned and left the room saying, "Follow me, then." Gripping the towel around himself, Harry quickly did as he was told and followed the man. They walked to the last room of the hallway and entered. The room was a bedroom done in shades of blue. There was a large bed along one wall, a wooden bedside table next to it that had a picture on it, a dresser was across from the bed, and then there was a closet. The picture on the table had a red haired woman that looked oddly familiar to Harry, but he couldn't place who she was.

"Get up on the bed, if you will." The man said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts. He was quick to comply, or…try to. The bed was too high and he couldn't pull himself up, he needed the man's help. The man wasn't even mean about it like Harry thought he would, he hadn't even said a word, he just calmly walked over and helped him up, setting him on the bed gently. The man seemed so good to Harry, but Harry knew not to let his guard down; that's usually when bad stuff would happen.

"Alright, take off the towel." The man said, tugging the corner a bit. Harry quickly took the towel off and set it next to him, then the man slipped another black shirt over his head. The man then helped Harry off the bed then went back to the living room.

"There isn't much to do here for a small child such as yourself," The man said, pointing at the sofa. "Sit down while I go find something." Harry climbed onto the sofa like the man said and waited. The man came back a few minutes later with a stuffed bear, some paper and crayons. "Why don't you draw me a picture?" Harry's eyes widened, he'd never been allowed to draw pictures before, he always had to do it while hiding. He used to pick up broken crayons of Dudley's while he was cleaning, and scrap paper from the trash and hide them in his cupboard. He looked at the paper and crayons and frowned, what was he supposed to draw?

The man saw his look and said, "Why don't you draw your family for me?" Harry nodded and picked up his crayons and paper and slid off onto the floor, it was always easier to draw on a hard surface. Leaning over his picture he began drawing. First he drew Uncle Vernon, with all his chins and huge belly, next to him Harry drew Aunt Petunia, with her long neck, and then Dudley in front of them, looking as big a baby wale as ever. Then off to the side a bit he drew their house and garden where all the flowers that Harry tended to where.

When he was finished he looked shyly up at the man and help up his picture. He was worried though, did the man want to see? He did ask Harry to draw for him, so he thought so but…

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Severus quickly went from room to room to find something for Potter to do, it was only a little after lunch time and the brat needed something to keep himself occupied. He searched, only to come up empty handed, then he realized he was a wizard. Severus quickly transfigured a stuffed bear out of a pillow, and got some paper and conjured some crayons.

When he gave the child the stuff though, at first Potter looked happy, but then a little sad, then finally he looked confused, as if he didn't know what to draw. So Severus told Potter to draw his family, a lot could be interpreted through children's drawings, maybe he would get a better look at what Potter's home life was like.

When the child handed him the drawing he frowned at first. There was a really fat man, a really skinny woman who Severus recognized as Petunia, and a really fat boy, but no Potter.

"Where are you in this picture?" Severus asked, surely Potter couldn't be the fat boy? Potter frowned and shrugged, signaling that he wasn't in the picture. Suddenly curiosity got the better of Severus and he told the boy to draw himself with his family, to see how Potter saw himself.

When he got the picture back, he almost growled in anger. Instead of Potter standing with his smiling family, Potter was tending the flowers, skin red (presumably from sunburn). He was wearing clothes that were way too big, and had cuts on the skin that did show. Potter wasn't smiling like his family, he was crying. Severus could tell just from the child's drawing, how forlorn he seemed to be, it spoke many volumes.

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Harry spent the rest of the day colouring and watching the man read, until suddenly the man stood and went into the kitchen. The man came back a few minutes later and told Harry that it was supper time. Harry calmly got up and followed the man into the kitchen. He'd already eaten that day and he wasn't supposed to eat again. He knew that Mrs. Goldstein, Eleanor, Mike, and Ryan didn't know the rules, but this man seemed the type to know, he looked so stern!

On the table were two plates of sandwiches and one of them had a glass of milk next to it. The man led Harry to the one with milk and sat him down, then sat down at the other side.

"Now, I want you to eat slowly this time. Can you do that, Potter?" the man asked. Harry nodded and picked up his sand which, but only after the man did. After supper was over Harry let out a really big yawn, making the man scowl.

"You should cover your mouth when you do that, Potter." The man said, then got up. "Come on, let's put you to bed." The man then leaned down and picked Harry up and carried him to the room from before.

"You'll sleep in here." The man said, putting Harry on the bed. He pulled the blankets back and waited for Harry to get in, but he hesitated, he wasn't supposed to sleep in the bed, he knew that.

"What are you waiting for? Do you have to use the bathroom first?" The man asked, Harry shook his head. "Well, then get in." Harry carefully crawled across the bed and laid down where the man told him to. The man gently pulled the blankets up and tucked them around Harry, making Harry feel funny inside. He'd always wanted to be tucked in. Mike, Eleanor, Mrs. Goldstein, and Ryan all tucked them in, but this man was even better at it. He really tucked the blankets around Harry's body like he really didn't want the cold getting, in...it was like he cared. But Harry knew that was impossible, who would care about a freak like him?

The man then shut off the lights and left the room, closing the door all but a crack. Harry waited until the footsteps stopped in the other room before getting up. He knew he couldn't stay in the bed. The man was either tricking Harry, or he'd forgotten the rules. But if he'd forgotten the rules, Harry was sure that he'd remember in the morning, and then Harry would be in huge trouble.

Silently making his way across the room he went to the closet and pulled open the door. It was rather dusty inside, but other than the dust there wasn't really anything there, just a bare wood floor. He went in and shut the door behind him, sneezing at the door knocked some dust from a higher shelf. Harry held his breath as he waited for the man to come running up and attack him, or yell at least. But nothing came so he went to the corner and laid down.

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Severus sat on the sofa and rubbed his eyes tiredly, he still hadn't thought of what he was going to do, was he going to tell Albus? Would it be better if he did? It was obvious that the boy's relatives weren't adequate; he could tell that just from Potter's picture. He reached forward and picked it up and studied it again, feeling rage build up at it. He wondered how many times Potter had tended the garden as his relatives smiled and laughed in the other room.

Suddenly the floo flared. Severus quickly stuffed Potter's pictures under the sofa cushion and transfigured the bear back to a pillow. Then he turned and waited as Albus Dumbledore came through the floo.


	11. Albus Dumbledore and the Yellow Crayon

**Finding Home Chapter Eleven: Albus Dumbledore and the Yellow Crayon**

Severus mentally groaned as Albus came through the fireplace, it was not a good time. After quickly shoving Potter's pictures under the cushion and transfiguring the bear back into a pillow, he sat down in his chair and acted as if nothing was up.

When Albus was fully in the room, Severus stood and was about to say something when something yellow caught his eye. _Yellow, _for Merlin's sake! He had nothing in his house that was yellow, that could only mean…His head snapped over and only years of spying stopped him from widening his eyes in horror. There, on the floor, six crayons lay scattered.

Albus was almost upon him and he couldn't banish them or go over to pick them up without Albus seeing and getting suspicious. He would just have to pretend they weren't there and hope Albus wouldn't see them. _Unlikely…_

"Hello Severus, I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Albus said cheerfully, "I thought we might have some tea?"

"I don't suppose I can say no?" Severus scowled and Albus beamed. "You might as well sit down, then." Albus sat down with his blue eyes twinkling madly, making Severus' stomach churn uncomfortably. Albus' eyes only twinkled that madly when he was either planning something horrible, or he knew some deep, dark secret about Severus. Both were pretty dangerous.

Without another word, Severus turned to go make some tea. Silently he prayed to any God that might be listening that Albus would not see the crayons on the floor. He made the tea as quickly as possible and levitated it into the living room where Albus was waiting.

"Have you been keeping busy?" Albus asked as Severus sat down in his chair.

"Yes, Albus. I've had a lot of brewing to do; Poppy's stocks are running low on numerous things." It wasn't a lie, Poppy's stocks were running low, but he had all summer to get them all done.

"That's good." Albus said, sipping his tea and shifted on the couch. There was a slight crinkling under the cushion and it dawned on Severus, Albus was sitting right where he'd shoved all the pictures and was leaning on the pillow that had just been a bear. Albus' feet were right next to the crayons, the yellow one to be exact. Had Albus noticed? It was kind of hard not to. Everything in the room was black or really dark browns and blues. How could you miss a yellow crayon lying in the middle of the floor?

As if Albus had read Severus' mind (who had his strongest Occlumency shields up), his eyes slowly drifted down towards the crayons. Severus felt horror creep up when Albus' eye snapped up towards him, the twinkling was nearly blinding.

"Crayons, Severus?" Albus asked, bending down and picking one up, the pink one. _Pink for Merlin's sake!_

"Yes, my distant nephew has come for a visit." Severus lied smoothly, his face heating up slightly.

"A nephew, you say?" Albus asked, "I didn't know you had any family left. What's his name?"

"Demitri." Severus blurted, saying the first name that came to mind. Severus mentally winced, had he replied to quickly? Would Albus catch on? Demitri? What was he thinking, picking that name? Why in Merlin's name was he so worried? Who cared if Albus took the brat? "Demitri's parents are dead, so he will be staying with me for a while."

"You willingly took in the boy?" Albus asked, sounding amazed. "How old is he?"

"He just turned six." Severus said, another truth. Potter had just turned six a month prior, after all.

"Well, where is he? Can I meet him?" Albus questioned, shifting in his seat to look around the room.

"He's asleep."

"Already? It's not even that late." Albus exclaimed.

"Albus, the boy's been through a terrible ordeal." Severus snapped.

"Oh, right. Well, when can I meet him, then?" Albus wondered. Severus narrowed his eyes, it seemed as if Albus didn't care at all that Demitri was going through a hard time and might not want to see anybody. It didn't matter that Demitri didn't actually exist. If he was this insensitive about Demitri's problem, how would he react to Potter's?

"Whenever he feels up to it, I'm not going to force him into something he isn't ready for." Severus snapped. Albus didn't say anything that time, they sat and sipped their tea in silence.

"Will you be able to continue to look for Harry, now that you have Demitri?" Albus asked a couple of seconds later.

"Probably not, it's a lot of work looking after a child." Severus replied. He really didn't want to continue to look for someone who had already been found anyway.

"A pity, that." Albus said, sounding a bit sad. "Nobody has had any luck finding him, I'm beginning to think I may never find him."

"You aren't giving up, are you?" Severus asked, curious despite himself.

"Oh no, or course not. He's too important in this war, we need him." Albus said, then took another sip of his tea as if talking about using a six year old in a war was normal.

"Is that the only reason that you want to find him? For the war?" Severus exclaimed. "For Merlin's sake Albus, he's only, what? Six? The Dark Lord hasn't even returned yet, if ever."

"I will not discuss this with you." Albus growled, suddenly sounding furious. "You will not interfere with my plans." He slammed his tea cup onto the coffee table and stood up. Severus quickly stood as well and watched as Albus stomped his way to the fireplace and left, leaving Severus confused.

What plans was Albus talking about? He hadn't told Severus of any plans, except using Potter in the war? Severus knew that he didn't like that idea, right now Potter was only six, and shouldn't be involved in any war. And who's to say the Dark Lord will come back? None of the Death Eaters have heard anything from him, so maybe he really was gone for good?

Severus hoped that the Dark Lord was gone, he didn't want to have to start spying again. There was always a chance that he might get caught, and then what? He'd be dead in seconds flat. While the thought of dying didn't scare Severus, he had too much to do before he died. Namely making sure Potter stayed alive, he had made a vow to Lily, after all, and so far he hadn't done a very good job of keeping it.

Tiredly, Severus flung himself down on the couch. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, then leaned forward to pull the pictures out from under the cushion. After straightening them on the coffee table, he looked at them. There was the one of Potter's family, one of a cat, a tree, and the last one was of Severus, and it wasn't too bad either. For a child's drawing, anyway.

Gathering the pictures, Severus stood and walked slowly to his room. It was still really early to go to bed, but he was tired and he knew that children generally got up really early in the morning. He wasn't a morning person, so he would have to try to get as much sleep as he could or he could risk snapping at Potter and scaring the daylights out of him.

When he reached his room, Severus strode over to his dresser and carefully stuffed the pictures in his sock drawer for safe keeping, he told himself, then stripped down to his boxers. He sighed as he slipped into bed, and before falling asleep, he wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

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Harry jerked awake, his head cracked against the wall and he bit into his hand. Apparently he'd stuffed his hand into his mouth during the night, probably to stop screams from escaping. He knew to be quiet, Uncle Vernon never liked it when he was noisy.

Confused from his nightmare, Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and whimpered, thinking he was back inside his cupboard at his uncle's house. Harry shivered, being cold and damp with sweat, and scooted back into the wall.

After a couple of minutes Harry finally calmed down enough to realize that the closet he was in was a lot smaller than his cupboard was at the Dursley's. He was safe, at least at the moment. Who knew what the man was going to do, how he was going to react to Harry being in his closet? Had he woken the man? He didn't hear any footsteps, so maybe he got lucky.

Harry shivered at the possibilities and crawled to the door. Opening it a crack, he peered out into the darkness. Obviously it was still night time, or maybe very early morning, so maybe Harry could do some cleaning? That always got onto Uncle Vernon's good side, kind of…

Very slowly and cautiously, Harry left the closet and began looking for cleaning supplies. There weren't any in the bedroom, not that he really expected any to be, but he found some under the sink in the bathroom, and a mop and broom in a closet in the hall.

Harry carried the cleaning supplies back to his room to begin cleaning. First he picked up the rug, shook it out, and then draped it on the bed so he could sweep the floor. There was so much dirt and dust on the floor, that it made Harry's eyes itch and water, he sneezed hard enough to send him falling on his bum. The broom fell to the floor with a loud clang and Harry held his breath as he waited for the man to come in and get him for making so much noise.

Harry waited and waited, but the man never came running through the door, so he picked himself up and continued to sweep. He was more careful not to kick up the dirt that time, though. It didn't take long for him to finish the floor, and he moved onto cleaning the bedside table.

The bedside table was probably the only thing in the room that he didn't have to climb on anything to clean, so he figured he would just get it out of the way. As he was moving the items off though, he caught a glimpse of the picture of the red-haired woman.

Harry's mind quickly filled with a woman's screams of, "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please!" He didn't understand, but it was frightening and he quickly set the picture face down on the bed. With that out of the way, Harry was free to clean the table, put everything back, and then move onto something else.

The next thing he decided to tackle was the dresser. It was much higher than he could reach, so he used the broom to catch all the cob webs hanging off of it, then he pulled the drawers open and climbed them to clean off the top. There wasn't anything up there except dust and cob webs though, which he thought strange. Everyone that he'd seen always put things on their dressers, like hair brushes and pictures and stuff. Maybe because it was a guest room? The man must not have had many guests though, by how dirty the room was.

As quickly as he could he finished up cleaning the dresser, then did the closet. That pretty much covered the room, with everything he could reach, anyway. Satisfied, Harry picked up the cleaning supplies and left to clean the bathroom. He figured he could have the bathroom and the kitchen done by the time the light started showing outside, then he would go back to his closet to wait.

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Severus grumbled as he rolled over, the sun was shining through the window, right onto his face. He hated the sun, why hadn't he closed the curtains before bed? He opened his eyes and squinted at the clock, it was ten in the morning. He was about to close his eyes and go back to sleep, after all, what had he to get up for? But then he remembered Potter and sat up quickly, why hadn't the brat come in and wake him? Was he even awake?

Severus got out of bed and quickly threw on some clothes, then left to go search for the little monster. He quickly glanced at the room, but didn't see him so he continued throughout the house. He did notice something strange though, his house was clean. It looked like the only parts of the house that hadn't been clean was the living room and his own room.

Albus was always telling him how he needed to clean his house, and even sent over some house elves to do the job, thinking Severus wouldn't notice. Severus wasn't sure how Albus thought he wouldn't notice a suddenly clean house, but Albus hadn't tried to send anymore after that. Until now, that is.

Irritated, Severus stomped back to Potter's room, maybe he was hiding under the bed. He would never understand children…

When Severus got into Potter's room, he didn't see the brat so called his name. Potter didn't come out, so he leaned down and looked under the bed, no Potter. A little worried, not that he would admit it to anybody, he stood up and looked around the room.

The only other place that Potter could be hiding would be the closet, so he strode forward and pulled the door open. He was actually a little startled when he opened the door and found Potter cowering inside, he hadn't actually expected the brat to be in there.

"Potter, what are you doing in the closet?" Severus asked. Potter's head snapped up to look at him, fear was written all over his face and Severus felt a stab of guilt.

Crouching down in front of the boy, Severus reached forward to touch him but Potter scooted away with a whimper.

"Come on out, I won't hurt you." Severus said quietly, holding his hand out. At first Potter didn't take it, then slowly reached forward. Right before his hand reached Severus' though, Potter snatched his hand back and looked back up into Severus' face.

"Potter…H-Harry, please come out of there so we can talk." Severus said, it felt strange to use the brat's name, but he knew he needed the child to trust him. Obviously there was something wrong, something that probably should have been noticed and tended to the day before.

Po-Harry's eyes snapped up again and searched Severus' face, fear was still clearly all over his features. Severus backed up a little to give Potter some room, so the boy slowly crawled out of the small closet and stood before him.

Keeping his hands in plain view of Po-Harry's view, he reached forward slowly with one hand and placed it on the child's shoulder.

"Let's get some breakfast." Severus said, steering Harry out of the room. For some reason Harry lowered his head and managed to look even sadder than before.

"What's wrong?" Severus asked when they stepped into the kitchen. Harry looked up and shook his head, then he walked forward and started pulling stuff out of the cupboard. What was the child doing? Surely he wasn't going to make his own breakfast…

"What are you doing?" Severus asked. Harry looked confused and patted the frying pan, as if to say, 'making breakfast…?'

"Making breakfast?" Severus asked, wanting to be sure. Harry nodded. "Harry, sit down at the table; you're too young to make anything." By the devastated look on Harry's face, Severus knew he had said something wrong. But Severus didn't understand, wouldn't Harry be glad he didn't have to make breakfast?

He went over and pulled the chair out from under the table, Severus gave Harry a pointed look until the child came over and climbed on top of it. Not knowing what to say, Severus began making breakfast. He made French toast, sausage, and toast; this time when he set the plate down in front of the boy, Harry's eyes lit up for a split second, but then went right back to being frightened.

After fixing his own plate, Severus sat down across from Harry. The brat glanced up from his plate up to Severus' face, then back down. Severus took a bite of his toast and waited for Harry to begin eating, but the brat just continued to stare at it.

After he finished his first piece of toast, he looked at Harry and asked, "Are you just going to stare at it, or are you going to eat it?" Harry quickly picked up his fork and started shoveling the food into his mouth.

"Slow down, Potter." Severus snapped, then sighed as Harry flinched back and dropped his fork on the table as if it had bitten him.

"You need to eat, you're only skin and bones." Severus said motioning towards the plate. "Or do I have to feed you again?" The child's eyes widened and he picked up the fork and began eating again. Harry had slowed his pace a little, but he was still eating much too quickly.

"Harry, stop."

Harry's big green eyes filled with tears and he all but threw the fork onto the table in anguish. Severus felt another stab of guilt. The poor child only wanted to eat, obviously, but was unable to do so slowly. Sighing, he stood up and walked over to Harry's side of the table.

Severus sat down in the chair next to Harry and picked up the fork, the turned to the boy. "We won't be making this a habit, Mr. Potter." He said, stabbing some food and holding it up to Harry's mouth.

For some reason Harry's mouth broke into a grin before he opened it to accept the food, and Severus wondered why. Did the brat enjoy being fed, or was it because of what he'd said?

"I bet you're enjoying this, aren't you?" Severus demanded, making Harry shake his head. The brat stopped his idiotic grinning and had the decency to blush, but his green eyes continued to glitter.

Severus huffed and continued to feed the boy slowly, he could only imagine what Minerva would think if she walking in at that moment; she would have a field day. He glared back down at the child, who shrank back a bit.

_There, now the child knew that he meant business._

When Harry had finished eating, Severus cleared all the dishes and washed the brats face. Then he went into the living room, and came back with more paper and crayons. He would figure out Harry's story and why he couldn't talk, but first he would let him relax and settle his food.

**Authors Note:** I am so sorry that this took so long to get up. The last couple of months a lot has happened- I became depressed and not even my stories could pull me through. I made the rash decision to drop out of school, which was probably stupid, but now I should have more time for updating. That's a plus, eh? This chapter seemed kind of short to me, but I didn't really know where to go with it, kind of have to get back into it I guess. Does anybody have any ideas of what they'd like to start seeing? I'm always open to opinions.


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